


medicine

by cadyjanis



Series: cadnis [1]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Bullying, Coming Out, Conflict, Crushes, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Dissociation, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Friendship, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Multi, Private School, Rape Recovery, Romance, Self-Harm, Sexual Assault, Some Humor, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 114,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadyjanis/pseuds/cadyjanis
Summary: cady heron is attending public school for the first time, and meets quirky damian and shy “art freak” janis on her first day, as well as north shore’s queen bee, regina. secrets soon unravel and a vengeful cady stirs a plot to take regina down, but she has to go behind her friends’ backs to do it. as both cady and janis deal with their growing feelings and occurrences in their home lives, cady’s plan takes twists and turns no one is prepared for. her goal is to stomp out regina once and for all, but at what cost?





	1. pt 1: ch 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello again friends and fellow fans of mean girls!
> 
> i can’t begin to tell you how proud i am of myself for writing this. i wrote the whole thing in less than a month and i’m so excited to share it with everyone. the reception i got on breaking point still warms my heart and i truly appreciate it!
> 
> i will say a few things: this story is not for the faint of heart nor for massive regina fans. you are not going to like regina in this story and she’s not meant to be a misunderstood or redeemable character. she’s a genuinely terrible person and that will be made clear as the story progresses. this is basically a much darker version of mean girls that touches on serious topics. appropriate trigger warnings will be in the author’s notes at the beginning of each chapter. please proceed with caution!
> 
> this chapter is probably the lightest and there aren’t any warnings for this one. but it all goes downhill from here, so be safe.
> 
> that’s all folks. let’s do this thing. enjoy!

_you could still be_  
_what you want to_  
_what you said you were_  
_when i met you_

_you’ve got a warm heart,_  
_you’ve got a beautiful brain_  
_but it’s disintegrating_  
_from all the medicine_

 

 

#  **PART ONE: SEPTEMBER**

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### one

 

 

 

“Hon, stop messing with your tie, I just ironed it.” Cady halts on the sidewalk as her mother’s fingers reach for her neck, smoothing the tie back to the way it was. Once fixed and Mrs. Heron is pleased, they take the other’s hand again and continue walking.

 

“I feel like I’m six years old and you’re taking me to my first day of kindergarten,” Cady mumbles, glancing down at her lunchbox, which has a cartoon dog printed on it. Mrs. Heron begged her to keep using it, too attached to buy her a new one.

 

“I feel that, too,” her mother agrees, squeezing her hand. Cady looks at her, trying to peer inside her head. She knows this must be hard for her mother after homeschooling Cady for ten years. (Kindergarten didn’t work out. Cady’s separation anxiety—and Mrs. Heron’s, too, probably—was too unmanageable.)

 

The Herons moved to Chicago in June and Cady had to beg her parents to let her go to public school. She wanted to make friends and experience high school the way her friends back home were. She only met them through book clubs and volunteering, and slightly envied them despite all their horror stories about school. So her parents, her mom in particular, compromised with Cady and enrolled her in a private school so she could receive the best possible education outside of her mother’s teachings. Now it’s her first day and she’s mostly looking forward to a bit of freedom.

 

_That’s really sad,_ a snide voice says. _You’re going to school to get away from your mom._

 

That’s not the _whole_ reason, of course. But perhaps it’s a contributing factor.

 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Cady isn’t going to dwell on that. She just wants to enjoy her first day and try something new.

 

North Shore looms tall and grey above them, and Cady is vaguely reminded of the school in _The Princess Diaries_ , except this is more like a castle and Cady doesn’t get the jealous, wistful feeling she has when she watches that movie. She toured the school in August, but she still gulps.

 

People are filing up the steps to the massive front doors, lingering on the porch to talk before the bell rings. Mrs. Heron is staring intently at her daughter’s face, gauging her reaction to the fact this is happening and _oh please, oh please change your mind, Cady._

“Don’t look at me like that,” Cady mutters, and her mom looks down at her loafers, folding her arms against the September chill. “Sorry. I just—Mom, I’ll be fine.” She puts a hand on her mother’s elbow, grabbing her attention. “Really. Thank you for letting me do this,” she adds, and Mrs. Heron’s face softens. “It’s important to me that I get to try real school for once. I can handle myself, but I’ll call you if I want to come home.” Mrs. Heron nods excessively and pulls her daughter into a tight hug.

 

Cady is very much aware of the looks they receive as they embrace for a full minute, and her cheeks flush self-consciously. She loves her mother and has always liked her hugs. But right now, telling by the grins, it’s painting a target on her back.

 

The first bell suddenly rings and Cady has to gently push her mother away. Mrs. Heron takes Cady’s hands and kisses her knuckles. “I love you,” she says earnestly, and it hurts Cady’s heart. The guilt has been swirling in her head ever since she got accepted, and it suddenly roars as her mother looks at her, pleading with her eyes to be safe, to be good, to _come home, Cady, let me teach you things, let me help you learn, let me be your mom for a while longer, Cady._

But Cady stands her ground, refusing to let the waves of remorse pull her under. She’s given in to everything her mother has wanted for her entire life. Now it’s time to be a person on her own. “I love you, too,” she vows, and kisses her cheek. “I’ll see you at three, okay?”

 

“Okay,” her mom hiccups, and lets her go, by some miracle. Cady skips up the stairs, careful not to get in anybody’s way. Once she reaches the doors, she turns to wave at her mother, who waves back and blows a kiss. Like she did on her first day of kinder, Cady catches it and blows one back, unable to resist the temptation.

 

* * *

 

Cady is shocked to find that by the end of third period, she hasn’t been stuffed in a locker or her head shoved down a toilet. She keeps her schedule and school map at the ready and only had to stop a teacher once to be sure she was going in the right direction. As far as her peers go, she generally feels invisible, and she’s not sure if that is a good thing. People glance at her when she passes or sits down, but overall nobody has bothered her—or introduced themselves, but she attributes that to her own new kid awkwardness. Maybe they’re shy or just don’t know how to start a conversation.

 

Cady goes outside during break and sinks onto an empty bench, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to flip through her notes and reorganize her stuff. She doesn’t really have to but the motion gives her hands something to do and prevents her from getting nauseous because of her anxiety. She’s held out pretty strongly so far, but her heart still races and it jars her confidence whenever she accidentally bumps someone or forgets where her locker is. No one warned her about that.

 

She zips up her backpack and looks out at the courtyard, exhaling. There’s a fountain in the middle surrounded by fresh red tulips. Everything in this school is flawlessly symmetrical, which pleases her eyes and calms her nerves.

 

She pulls out her phone to text her mother, letting her know how things are going and that she’s doing okay. She hopes this gets easier for her mom, since she can’t spend every minute worrying about her and how she’s coping with the temporary absence of Cady in their house.

 

The bell tolls again, and Cady takes a deep breath and gathers her things. She squares her shoulders and heads back inside, eager for fourth period: calculus, her favorite subject. Her mathematic talent was probably what swayed the school board to let her in. Both her parents are mathematicians and veterinarians so it wasn’t surprising that Cady excels in calculus. Her only disconnect is wanting to work with animals; she aims to be a professor at a university or a math tutor of some kind.

 

In calculus, Cady is seated behind a tall guy with the most perfect neck she’s ever seen, and perhaps she drools a little. His brown hair is sleek and styled just right (details her mother has taught her to look out for) and sometimes he’ll scratch his ear and Cady will get a glimpse at his hand. She nearly chokes when he twists around in his seat to ask if she has an eraser, since his pencil’s has blessedly eroded away.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Cady stammers after a too-long second of gaping, then reaches into her bag to retrieve the extra eraser her mom packed. She hands it to him with a smile, and he returns it, whispering a thank you. His eyes are sparkly blue. And he smiled at her. And he thanked her for her eraser. _Holy wow._

 

She’s disappointed when calculus is over, but her heart soars when he turns around again, presumably to talk to her.

 

“Hi,” he says, the first person aside from the teachers to acknowledge her. “I’m Aaron. You new here?”

 

“Yes,” Cady answers, and dials it down when she adds, _trying_ not to thrust her hand at him, “I’m Cady.”

 

They shake on it, and Cady feels like his hand swallows hers. But his palm is soft and his fingers are warm and so is his face and he seems genuinely interested in her, like he wants to know more about the ex-homeschooler new girl.

 

Boys have never so much as breathed in Cady’s direction. She has zero experience dealing with them and only knows stuff from watching things and reading books. She’s aware he could totally be scamming her and will gradually be nice to her until he pressures her into having sex with him, but maybe he’s one of those guys who _isn’t_ like that.

 

They walk to the gym together and talk the whole way there. Aaron asks questions like where she’s from and if she likes Chicago. What her favorite band is, if she has ever been to a concert. He gets excited when she tells him she once went to an orchestral concert for her birthday one year. In five minutes, she has talked more today than she expected to, and she curses gym class for splitting them apart. He promises to catch up with her later, and she beams.

 

She wanders through gym in a daze, thinking about Aaron, not really paying attention. She’s rudely knocked back to reality when a volleyball smacks her in the head, and it makes her lose her balance and go sprawling on the gymnasium floor. _Gross._

 

“Sorry!” a girl’s voice calls out as people snicker around Cady. Suddenly there’s someone standing above her, offering a hand. “I didn’t mean to.”

 

“That’s okay,” Cady grunts, blinking the black spots away as she allows the other girl to help her to her feet.

 

The perpetrator is taller than Cady by several inches, and instantly goes to straighten Cady’s gym clothes so she looks presentable again. Cady reties her ponytail, noticing how straight and pretty the other girl’s blonde hair is. Cady feels a twang of envy; brown curls get tiring.

 

The blonde steps back and scrunches her nose. “Sorry again, really.”

 

Cady fixes a smile and shrugs. “No problem. It’s okay. Thanks for your help. I’m Cady.”

 

“Karen,” the blonde replies, shyly returning Cady’s friendly smile. She’s about to say something else when someone barks her name across the room, and both girls jump in place, startled. Karen turns toward the noise, then rolls her eyes when she looks back at Cady. “Sorry, I—I gotta go. See ya.”

 

“Okay. See ya,” Cady echoes, and watches as Karen jogs over to a couple girls lingering by the wall. A platinum blonde, an inch or two shorter than Karen, and a petite girl with fabulous dark hair that Cady is surprised she wasn’t told to tame for gym. Though telling by the lack of sweat on both of them, they’re not much for participation.

 

Real-life Barbie asks Karen a question, twirling a ringlet around a manicured finger. Karen answers and her friend’s face darkens, and Cady goes still when her eyes flicker over to her. Even from a distance, Cady feels exposed and borderline ugly as she looks at her skeptically from head to toe, then back to Karen. Cady turns away and keeps doing what she was doing before Karen hit her in the head, feeling queasy.

_There’s one in every school,_ a voice not unlike her mother’s pipes up. _A queen bee and her workers. Watch out unless you want to get stung._

Cady can feel Barbie’s malicious glare drilling holes into the target on her back for the rest of gym.

 

* * *

 

Cady couldn’t be more grateful for lunch, up until the part where she has to find a place to sit. She doesn’t even bother entering the cafeteria, hiding her lunchbox behind her back so nobody sees it. She scans the massive room for some sign of an empty to semi-empty table, but there’s so many people it’s hard to tell.

 

She spots Karen at her table with her friends, and her stomach sinks when she sees Aaron, of all people, sitting with them, his arm around Barbie’s shoulders. She’s giggly about something and leans into him when he kisses the side of her head.

 

Okay. So, maybe not a fuckboy. But he’s someone’s boyfriend, and in the moment that’s way worse.

_Her_ boyfriend. Yikes. Cady hates judging books by their cover, but after being scrutinized all of gym by Barbie’s all-seeing eyes, she’s come to the conclusion that she probably isn’t a particularly nice or well-intentioned person. Cady just gets a vibe.

 

Sighing dejectedly, Cady hurries away from the cafeteria and heads for the nearest ladies’ room, gulping down the shame.

_If your mom could see you right now,_ Cady thinks as she chews her sandwich, shaking her head. _She’d be squawking and flailing and telling you to come home._ She could have gone home for lunch, actually—they walked to school since their house is only five minutes away by foot. Cady’s parents wanted her to be close. But Cady insisted on having lunch at school on her first day, but she’s deeply regretting it now. She’d go home if she wasn’t afraid her mom would freak out.

 

She finishes half her lunch, not too hungry to begin with. She stays in the stall, though, unwilling to leave until the bell rings.

 

She’s thumbing through her phone when the bathroom door squeaks open, and after a pause there’s voices and two people come in. They stop in front of her stall, despite the rest being free and hers saying _occupied_. Cady jumps when one person knocks.

 

“You’ve been in there an awfully long time,” a flamboyant male voice accuses. “You’re either doing drugs or you’re constipated from using drugs.”

 

Cady stands and shoves her phone in her pocket, grabbing her lunchbox and hurrying to open the door so these strangers can see she’s _not_ doing drugs. “No, I’m not,” she argues in a high, panicked voice, coming face-to-face with them.

 

The boy, both tall and large, smiles at her with shrewd blue eyes, like she’s hiding something and he’s going to find out what it is. Cady _isn’t_ hiding anything, but she feels as if he could dig up dirt on her anyway. It surprises her more that his friend, who is a girl, is letting him into the ladies’ room rather than the fact a boy is in the ladies’ room.

 

“Welcome to high school, I’m Damian,” he says, offering his hand. While Cady’s distractedly shaking it, his friend takes her schedule, peeking out of her pocket. “And that’s Janis, resident art freak,” the girl waves absently, studying the piece of paper, “and we are what you’d call the welcome committee! We’re here to help you out.”

 

“Oh, thanks,” Cady says politely, wishing she’d met them hours ago so she wouldn’t have drifted throughout the day alone. “I’m Cady.”

 

“I’m gonna call you Caddy,” Janis counters good-naturedly, folding the paper and slipping it back into Cady’s pocket.

 

Janis is intimidatingly tall, probably as tall as Karen, but Karen radiated an innocence that Cady senses Janis is lacking. Janis has short dark hair with side swept bangs and even darker eyes that make Cady’s insides feel funny when they meet hers. She’s gorgeous, is Cady’s next thought, her organs twisting weirdly.

 

“We saw you looking lost at lunch,” Janis tells her. “But we wanted to give you space. You okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Cady responds, delicately shocked they want to be sure nothing’s wrong. “Yeah, I just—couldn’t find anywhere to sit. It feels like everyone’s in groups,” she admits, and they nod gravely. “Like, in a clique-y kind of way. Not you guys.”

 

Janis smirks. “Welcome to hell,” she deadpans, and swings her arm around Cady’s shoulders. “Come on, Caddy. You can sit with us.”

 

That’s how Cady ends up at their table in the very back, which explains why she didn’t see them. Lunch is over in ten minutes but they take the time to point out the “packs” of people and what constitutes being involved in them. Cady often catches herself staring at Janis’s face while she talks rather than look where she’s pointing. The feeling it gives her, admiring a girl instead of Aaron, is something Cady is getting used to. She came to terms with her bisexuality over the summer, but it’s strange looking at this girl and knowing it’s okay to be attracted to her. It’s also strange thinking she’s prettier than Aaron is handsome.

 

“And those three—we call them the Plastics,” Damian is saying, and Cady jolts out of her reverie to see who he’s talking about, and to no one’s surprise he’s pointing to the table where Barbie is. “They’re shiny, fake, and hard. The one in the middle is Regina George, the one on her left is Gretchen Wieners, and on the right is Karen Smith. And that’s Regina’s boyfriend, Aaron Samuels.” Damian huffs unhappily. “What a waste.”

 

Cady laughs. “Yeah, I met him. He’s in calculus with me. He’s really nice.”

 

Damian shakes his head and puts his chin in his hand. “Again, a waste.”

 

Janis rolls her eyes. “Please. Anyone who’s stupid enough to date that bitch can be so easily corrupted by her. Give it time.”

 

Cady is startled by the venom in Janis’s voice, but the bell interrupts her before she can get nosy. “I’ll see you in chemistry,” Janis says, to Cady’s delight. Cady has to make a stop at her locker, and Damian chatters in her ear as he walks her there and back.

 

“Also, don’t bring up Regina unless Janis does,” he informs her when they reach the chemistry lab, and Cady nods.

 

Damian has a different class, so Cady goes in alone. She scans the room for Janis, and her belly flips when she spots her at a table by the window. She is already wearing a pair of goggles, nestled on her forehead as she puts on an apron. The light streaming in behind her creates a silhouette that makes Cady’s breath hitch.

 

Janis grins when she sees Cady and theatrically points to the available stool next to her. Cady gleefully joins her. “Were you saving this for me?”

 

“No, but I guess I got lucky,” Janis replies, smirking, and Cady’s heart flutters.

 

Janis forgot her chemistry book so they have to share Cady’s, which Cady is more than okay with. Janis smells really good, and their closeness makes Cady’s head spin. It catches her off-guard, how attracted she is to Janis. She tells herself to chill.

 

They’re exiting chemistry together when their path is abruptly blocked by none other than Regina.

 

Hands on her hips, Regina first stares at Janis til she’s hunching her shoulders uncomfortably, then gives Cady a sickeningly sweet smile. “Hi. You’re the new girl.”

 

A statement, not a question. Cady feels obligated to nod anyway.

 

“Well, new girl,” Regina sneers, narrowing her eyes. “Here’s a word of advice for you: stay away from my boyfriend. Gretchen saw you talking to him earlier, said you looked pretty chummy.” Cady glances at the aggressively texting brunette behind Regina, swallowing. Karen is standing beside her, looking down at her feet. Regina pokes Cady’s chest, and Cady winces at the stab of her nail through her sweater. “He’s mine. You might sit together in calculus, but don’t talk to him. Got it?”

 

Cady’s biting her tongue so hard she tastes the coppery tang of blood. “Got it,” she whispers, holding back words that would undoubtedly dig her own grave.

 

Regina looks at Janis again, leering. “How is it that you manage to look like a bedraggled stray cat all the time?” she says to her, feigning awe. Gretchen snorts a laugh. “It truly amazes me, Janis. Makes me sad. Bet you miss my makeovers.”

 

With that, she waggles her fingers and stalks off, Gretchen and Karen trailing after her, Karen a tad more reluctantly.

 

“Jesus,” Cady hisses under her breath, feeling a rush of hate. She turns to Janis, who is pointedly looking away. “Hey. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

 

Janis frowns and shrugs, sniffling once before touching Cady’s arm and walking away. Cady doesn’t follow.

 

* * *

 

Cady doesn’t see Janis again until school is out, and she’s waiting with Damian at Cady’s locker when Cady strolls up. “Oh. Hi, guys.”

 

“Hi,” Damian says. “Janis told me about earlier, with Regina.” He scoffs and dramatically rolls his eyes. “She’s so full of it. She must be pretty insecure if she thinks Aaron is going to ditch her for you. I mean, I would if I were him,” he corrects before Cady misinterprets, “but she must not have a lot of faith in him if she had to say that.”

 

Cady shrugs, retrieving her lunchbox from her locker. “It’s whatever. I don’t care.”

 

The three of them, even Damian, are quiet for a minute as they migrate to the front of the school. Janis watches her shoes, arms folded. She says to Cady, “Just stay away from all of them, okay? Even Karen. I know she’s dumb and seems really innocent but you never know with the Plastics. They aren’t trustworthy. Regina recruited them this summer, apparently. Probably at one of her many pool parties.” She scoffs.

 

Cady’s brow furrows. “You mean they weren’t friends last year?”

 

“No, they were,” Janis affirms, and her voice is tense. “Like, they were friendly. But Gretchen and Karen are her new cronies this year.”

 

“They have no idea what they’ve gotten themselves into,” Damian sighs. “Janis used to be fr—”

 

Janis elbows him and shakes her head with wide eyes, shutting him up. “But yeah, Caddy, don’t bother trying to get on Regina’s good side. She’ll destroy your life.”

 

They stand on a step, watching Regina and the Plastics slide into the back of a sleek white Mercedes. Cady glances at Janis’s face and her expression makes Cady shiver. She looks like a girl in a horror movie plotting a murder in her head. All she’s missing is a weapon of her choice.

 

Cady spots her mom approaching in the distance and turns to her friends. “Quick, give me your phone numbers,” she demands. “Before I have to introduce you.”

 

Because having her overbearing mom meet her new friends is just about the most embarrassing thing Cady can think of.

 

They exchange numbers, Cady thanks them for a great day, and then bounds down the steps to greet her mother before Mrs. Heron can come to them. She hugs her tight, genuinely pleased to be reunited. Cady hadn’t realized how much she missed her.

 

“How was your day?” Mrs. Heron asks, looping her arm through Cady’s.

 

Cady exhales and leans against her mother. “Long. But good.”

 

“You made some friends?” Mrs. Heron inquires hopefully, peeking over her shoulder at Janis and Damian. Cady doesn’t see, but they smile and wave.

 

“Yeah,” Cady hums in response, allowing herself to smile. “I did.”


	2. pt 1: ch 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank y’all for the love on chapter one! excited to keep this going.
> 
>  **CH2 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  homophobia  
> sexual harassment  
> lesbophobia/d slur  
> sexual assault mention

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### two

 

 

 

Despite it being a school night, Cady is awake for another hour after going to bed, hiding under the covers with her phone. Damian made a groupchat for the three of them, and Cady has to press her face into her pillow so her parents won’t hear her laughing.

 

When she finally forces herself to say goodnight (and urge them to get some rest, too), she goes to sleep thinking about her friends with a smile on her face, still giggly from the ridiculousness that occurred in such a short period of time. She can’t possibly think about the Plastics when Damian and Janis are on her mind.

 

The next morning, Cady is in a good mood at breakfast even though getting up early is a new challenge for her. Her dad comments on it and Cady blushes as she chews a piece of bacon. She’s just excited to see her friends again today.

 

Her eagerness to get to school dulls a bit when she remembers Regina will be there, too. But as long as she stays out of her way, nothing bad will happen to her. Right? All she has to do is avoid Aaron and not talk to him or be friends with him in any capacity, and Regina will leave her be.

 

However, Cady realizes the target on her back has gotten bigger after befriending Janis. Janis evidently has a history with Regina, and if they aren’t on good terms, Regina could very well start picking on Cady for being Janis’s friend. That isn’t going to stop Cady from doing so—Janis is funny and kind, and if sticking by her means she gets the force of Regina’s wrath anyway, then so be it. Defending Janis is far more important.

 

Cady’s father walks her to school today, and she’s a bit more open with him about yesterday than she was with her mom. She tells him about her friends and how nice they are and that they made her feel welcome at school, because they know what it’s like to be different. She leaves out Regina for obvious reasons.

 

Janis is sitting on a bench outside school when they approach, and Cady points her out. “Oh, there’s Janis. Janis! Hi!”

 

She waves when Janis looks up, and Janis waves back, shy when she sees Cady’s dad. Cady turns to him and gives him a hug. “Okay, I’ll see you. Love you.”

 

“Love you, too, kid,” he says, kissing her hair. “Have a good day.”

 

“I will!” Cady’s already jogging across the street, and Janis stands with her arms spread, and they aggressively embrace each other like boys. Janis lifts Cady off the ground and Cady shrieks with laughter, though on the inside her organs are flip-flopping around again because _holy hell, Janis is strong._

 

“Hi,” Janis says, wearing an expression that makes Cady feel like she’s never been that forward before.

 

“Hi,” Cady echoes, beaming, poking Janis in the chest. “Where’s Damian?”

 

“Don’t know,” Janis replies, brow furrowed as she pulls out her phone. “He’s usually late, though. He takes his sweet ass time getting here.”

 

Cady giggles as Janis punches a text to Damian. “Why do I feel like Regina does, too?”

 

“Oh, she does,” Janis confirms, nodding. “She totally does. Last year she’d, like—well. Nevermind.” She shuts herself up and Cady looks down at her shoes. She’s dying to know what happened between Janis and Regina, but respects Janis enough she isn’t going to pry.

 

Janis snickers and tilts her screen towards Cady so she can see the Snapchat Damian sent her. He’s in his mom’s car trying to do his hair on the way here. “Probably slept in again,” Janis scoffs. “Idiot. I told him to wait to make the GC today.”

 

“I don’t have Snapchat,” Cady admits, and Janis gapes. “Sorry, I—it was never my thing.”

 

Janis nudges her foot to Cady’s shin. “Then _make_ it your thing. You can’t be friends with us if you don’t send quality snaps.”

 

Cady isn’t sure if she’s kidding or not. When she takes too long to answer, Janis smiles impishly and pushes her arm gently. “I’m kidding,” she assures. “But I will warn you, Damian is gonna pester you about that until you make one. And he can be super annoying if he doesn’t get what he wants.”

 

Cady laughs as they start walking up the steps, elbows linked. “I’ll do it for him and nobody else.”

 

Janis nods her approval. “That will make him the happiest bitch on the planet, Caddy.”

 

* * *

 

Cady creates a Snapchat during break, and she takes an abundance of selfies using the filters to send to Janis and Damian despite the fact they are sitting on either side of her. Truthfully, she never used the app before because she didn’t want the pressure of keeping up streaks with her old friends, and her mom made her think the government would steal the pictures for some reason. Regardless of if they do or not, Cady only has two friends now.

 

“You’ve turned her into a monster,” Janis mentions to Damian later as she taps through the selfies Cady sent that Janis literally just watched her take.

 

“And I’m _proud_ ,” Damian belts, wrapping his arms around Cady.

 

“Shouldn’t you be blowing the janitor, Hubbard?” Regina’s reedy voice pipes up from behind, and Janis all but hides her face in her locker. Damian clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything to that. Cady’s blood boils with rage, wishing he was able to stand up for himself without consequences. Regina shouldn’t be allowed to make remarks like that and get away with it. Straight girls really don’t give any fucks at all.

 

Then Gretchen pinches Janis’s ass when she walks by, and everyone in the vicinity bursts out laughing when Janis yelps and whirls around, hair flying in her face. Regina’s cackle can be heard all the way down the hall, but the only person aside from the trio who isn’t laughing is Karen.

 

Unthinkingly, Cady launches herself after the Plastics, but Damian seizes her arm and yanks her back before she sends her private school education down the toilet. “Don’t, Cady,” he cautions, but his eyes are sad when he looks to Janis.

 

Janis looks humiliated and terrified. Not even mad, just…scared. Like she was expecting something worse. Cady isn’t sure what to make of that.

 

Cady helps Janis collect what she needs for her next class, then takes her hand and leads her away from the still-amused crowd, Damian trailing after them protectively. He seems to be used to having homophobic abuse hurled at him on a daily basis by Regina—Janis appears to be uncertain how to handle whatever _that_ was.

 

“It’s okay, come on,” Cady urges her, leading Janis around a corner and making a beeline for the girls’ bathroom. Damian has no quarrel following them in there, and holds their bags when Cady hands them over. The bathrooms here are super fancy, like a hotel’s, and Cady sits Janis down on a stool by the sinks. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing, she just wants to erase the look on Janis’s face. It’s freaking Cady out.

 

“That was, like, sexual harassment, right?” Cady hisses to Damian, filling a cup of water. “We could report Gretchen for that.”

 

Damian shrugs, clearly not thinking that’s a good idea. “All the Plastics have money. They could buy their way out of anything. And as if anyone would believe Gretchen did that.” He rolls his eyes. Janis huffs a laugh as she sips her drink.

 

“But there were witnesses,” Cady presses, smoothing Janis’s hair back into place. “Everyone saw her.”

 

“And they all laughed,” Damian deadpans, staring at Cady so intently she figures it’s best to drop it, for Janis’s sake.

 

The color hasn’t returned to Janis’s face, but she looks slightly less traumatized, so Cady assumes that’s a good sign. She gives the cup back and cracks her knuckles, and the sound reverberates off the walls. The bell rings then, but Cady is more concerned with how Janis is going to fare in gym like this.

 

“You gonna be okay?” Cady murmurs as Janis gets to her feet and fixes her skirt and cardigan.

 

“Yeah,” Janis replies, but her voice is subdued and she won’t meet Cady’s eyes.

 

Cady looks to Damian for help, but telling by his resigned look, trying to get Janis Sarkisian to do anything is impossible, even if it’s in her best interests.

 

“Really, I’m fine,” Janis claims, and takes her bag from Damian. “Come on, let’s go before we get expelled.”

 

* * *

 

Miraculously, Janis survives gym class, and Cady is the one who gets snapped at for constantly checking in on her when she’s supposed to be doing something else. Janis is in a bad mood by the time they’re done, and Cady keeps her distance.

 

Janis picks at her food during lunch, and Cady isn’t all that hungry, either. Damian guzzles his lemonade and tries to lighten things up by suggesting coordinating Halloween costumes, but Janis shoots him down. “Halloween is over a month away,” she retorts, tapping at her phone. “Cool your jets.”

 

Damian deflates, but visibly feels guilty for even attempting to make them feel better. Cady bumps her foot to his under the table and offers a supportive smile. She privately texts him, since Janis is in her own electronic world, and says she thinks that’s a great idea. He beams.

 

But his smile fades as someone comes up behind Cady, and Cady turns to see who it is. A random girl she hasn’t met, joined by a friend, are smirking at Janis. “Sarkisian,” she says, and Janis looks up, startled. “You look pretty down for someone who was lucky enough to have their ass grabbed by a Plastic. You didn’t like it?”

 

Cady is standing up before the girl even finishes her sentence. “Of course she didn’t like it,” she yells, hands balling into fists. Damian reaches across the table to tug on the back of her uniform, but she refuses to let this go. “Janis didn’t ask for that.”

 

The girl raises her eyebrows at Cady’s grit, then leers in Janis’s direction again. “Aw, Sarkisian. Did you rope this one into your bed, too? Is that why she’s so determined to protect you?” Her friend laughs, but it sounds more like a witch’s screech. Several people around them laugh as well.

 

Janis leaps up and hurries away. Damian loyally chases after her, leaving Cady to deal with this instigator. Cady pushes at the girl’s chest, hard.

 

“Fuck you,” Cady hisses in her stunned face. She clearly didn’t expect this to get any worse.

 

Cady pushes past them and marches for the cafeteria entry, the roar in her ears muffling the sound of mounting laughter. As she is reaching the doors, Regina hollers from her table, “Watch out, new girl. That dyke will screw you whether you want it or not.”

 

Cady ignores her. She lets her feet carry her to the girls’ bathroom, but Janis and Damian aren’t there. She hasn’t fully processed what that girl and Regina meant by those comments, but her stomach hurts for Janis regardless. That word Regina used—it’s not a nice word, directed at a specific group of people.

 

Cady doesn’t care if Janis is gay or not. What matters is finding her and seeing how she can help her.

 

Ultimately the last place she looks is where Janis is: the art room, specifically the art room’s closet. Cady hears crying as soon as she walks in, and with shaking hands she approaches the door near the back, hesitating before tentatively knocking.

 

“Guys, it’s me,” she says. “I—I locked the door. Can I come in?”

 

The handle twists and then Damian ushers her inside the small but organized room. Janis is sitting on an unused stool, face hidden in her hands. Cady goes to her instantly out of habit; whenever a friend is in pain, her instinct is to comfort them, usually by hugs or physical contact. She wraps her arms around Janis’s shoulders, and Janis leans into her with a sob. Cady can’t believe at this time twenty-four hours ago, Damian and Janis were meeting her in the bathroom. It seems like centuries since then, like she’s known them longer than a day. The rush of love and protectiveness she feels for Janis almost transcends time.

 

Janis cries for a while, body trembling in Cady’s gentle but shielding grasp. Damian looks forlorn, like he might cry himself. Cady sheds a few tears of her own, wishing there was something more she could do. But this hug is, evidently, all Janis needs right now.

 

The bell blares, signaling sixth period, but Cady doesn’t move. She’d risk getting in trouble for skipping chemistry (and would take the blame for both of them) if it meant she had to stay here and make sure Janis didn’t start hyperventilating.

 

Damian doesn’t even blink when he hears the bell. He’s faithful to the end, too.

 

And so that’s where they stay, all three of them. Janis eventually stops crying and Cady gets a stool to sit next to her, putting her chin on Janis’s shoulder.

 

Janis holds on to Cady like she’s an anchor, one foot in Damian’s lap. The silence around them is heavy.

 

* * *

 

“Well, well, well. So this is where you three have been.”

 

Cady gulps, staring up into the unhappy face of Mrs. Riley, their chem teacher. “Janis wasn’t feeling well,” she explains, and squeezes Janis’s hand.

 

Mrs. Riley looks at Janis, frowning. “Then why didn’t you take her to the nurse?”

 

“We—” Cady glances at Damian, who is tense. “Um, well, something happened during lunch, and Janis needed to…be alone.”

 

“With you two,” Mrs. Riley deadpans, then sighs, shaking her head. “Just be present in class tomorrow, ladies. I hope whatever happened won’t affect your ability to attend, _again_.” She sniffs. “Move along, now. Get to class. Only one more hour and then you’re all free to go.”

 

Janis doesn’t have time to fix herself up for French, so Cady gives her a hug and tells her she’ll be at her locker when classes are over. She straightens Janis’s clothes real quick, which makes Janis laugh a little, then waits til she sees Janis is seated to wave and head back for her last class, wishing she could stay with her friend.

 

As promised, Cady is diligently waiting by her locker with Damian an hour later, biting her nails. “I still can’t believe it,” she mutters.

 

“Get used to it, honey,” Damian sighs. “People have been doing that since last spring.”

 

Cady looks at him, filled with morbid curiosity. “They’ve been calling Janis a—that word, _and_ a rapist?” She hisses the last part, not wanting anyone to hear.

 

Damian looks uncomfortable, but not because Cady is bringing it up. “Yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. “Guess who started that rumor.”

 

“Regina,” Cady mumbles, folding her arms. “That bitch. Why would she—”

 

“Because Regina George is a scum-sucking, fart-mouthed life ruiner,” Janis says darkly as she strolls up. She gingerly returns Cady’s hug. “Hi.”

 

“Hi. How are you?” Cady asks, stepping back to give her space.

 

Janis shrugs, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to fix it. “Fine,” she lies, looking down at her feet. “But yeah. The day we came back to school after spring break, people started treating me different, and it was because of Regina.” She rolls her eyes.

 

Damian gives her an expectant, almost quizzical look, like he’s silently asking for permission to share the rest of the story. But Janis shakes her head, and Cady’s shoulders slump slightly. Not that it’s a tale she’ll enjoy, but she wants to know the full extent of what they’re all up against, especially Janis.

 

Cady slips her hand into Janis’s as they’re heading for the front entrance. “I’m sorry about whatever she did to you.”

 

Janis laughs without humor. “Me too, Caddy. Me too.”

 

* * *

 

Damian’s mom picks him up, and Janis pulls her bike alongside her as she walks with Cady to Cady’s house. Cady texted her mom earlier to let her know she was bringing a friend home, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to introduce Janis to the Herons’ dog first. Her parents are both working, or else she wouldn’t have invited Janis over.

 

Janis seems lost in thought, so Cady doesn’t broach a conversation just yet. The leaves on the trees are beginning to turn brown and orange, scattered across the sidewalk like an early autumn version of snow. Cady steps on them to hear the crunch.

 

While they’re at a stop sign waiting for cars to pass, Janis says, “Can I tell you something, Caddy?”

 

Cady’s heart leaps into her throat. “Yeah, of course. Anything.”

 

“I’d say promise not to tell anyone, but it isn’t really a secret,” Janis says sourly. “But—I guess I want you to hear it from me. Like, officially.”

 

There’s a beat of silence, and Cady’s pulse rages in her ears. Janis looks over at her, searching her face and posture for some sign of deceit, like she’s double-checking to be sure she’s trustworthy. Janis’s big dark eyes are sad and stoic, and her voice lacks the pride and conviction it should when she says, “I’m gay.”

 

Something about hearing it from Janis herself roots Cady to the spot. She figured there had to be some truth to what people were saying, and this must be it. She sensed it subconsciously, too, but didn’t want to make assumptions. Her friends always teased her for acting gay around girls even before she realized it herself, and she hated that and how it made her feel. So she wasn’t going to do that to Janis.

 

“Okay,” Cady responds, a tad belatedly, since Janis is staring, waiting. “Okay. That’s—okay. Thank you for…telling me.”

 

The corner of Janis’s mouth quirks up, but it disappears when she adds, “That’s all Regina got right. All the other stuff you’ve heard or might hear—that isn’t.”

 

Cady nods, stepping closer to put her hand on Janis’s elbow. “I know,” she assures her. “I know you wouldn’t…do that. That doesn’t seem like you. Regina is disgusting for putting that in people’s heads. You shouldn’t even joke about it, let alone lie about someone…doing it.”

 

There’s another pause until Janis states bluntly, “She told people I molested _her_ , Caddy.”

 

Something grips Cady’s body like a fist closing around her. “What?” she says, breathlessly. “Wh-what, why would she—why would she say—”

 

“Because she—I don’t know.” Janis angrily looks down at her shoes, hands tightening on the handlebars of her bike. “She wanted to ruin my life. And she did. I came out to her, thinking I could trust her, and—” She inhales shakily, visibly cutting out parts of the story before she continues. “She wanted people to think I was a dirty lesbian. And it worked, because nobody—I have no friends, other than you and Damian. And…I don’t know. I don’t know what possessed her to do something so bad. I knew she was evil but not like that, just in a…bitchy, power-hungry Plastic way. I didn’t think she’d actually stoop so low.” She grits her teeth, inhaling through her nose. “But she did. And now people think I’m a gross dyke who will prey on any girl and hurt them.”

 

“Janis…” Cady’s crying without realizing it. She swipes at her cheeks with quivering hands. “Oh my God, Janis.”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder jadedly. “Yeah. I’m…surprised they even let me back in. I mean, they couldn’t prove it—that I touched her, or whatever. Because I didn’t. Meanwhile, there’s girls who’re actually getting raped by entitled guys and—and they get away with it, like Regina got away with telling people I did that. The only problem is, I couldn’t prove I _didn’t_ do it. So it’s me versus them. There’s two sides, and everyone took hers. And Regina—the dirty fucking liar, she made light of real assault to paint me as a—a predator. To further her agenda against gay people or whatever. She brainwashed an entire school.”

 

Cady has to sit down on a nearby bench to catch her breath. Janis leans her bike against a tree and joins her, putting a hand on her back. “Sorry,” she says thickly. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, I was just venting. Are you okay, Caddy?”

 

“Yeah, I just.” Cady presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Jesus Christ. That girl is the devil reincarnate, Janis.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Janis snorts, and Cady pulls her hands away to hug her. Janis seems startled at first, but quickly returns the embrace, relaxing into Cady’s caring arms. It seems to be a comfort to Janis, to be able to hug someone and not be afraid of their intentions. Cady wears her heart on her sleeve. She means it.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Cady whispers, unsure what else to say at this point. “You didn’t deserve that.”

 

Janis sighs. “I know,” she murmurs, but doesn’t sound convinced that she didn’t.

 

First that makes Cady sad, then a vengeful flame flickers to life somewhere in her heart, and it burns the rest of the walk to her house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note, in case anyone doesn’t know: i am a lesbian! the d slur is mine to reclaim and use.


	3. pt 1: ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CH3 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  anxiety / anxiety attacks

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### three

 

 

 

Cady likes the nonchalance of Janis sitting cross-legged on her bed, loafers kicked to the floor. The Herons’ dog, Wilson, is sitting in Janis’s lap, eyes closed as Janis gives him a massage around the ears and neck. Cady laughs at his expression.

 

“He’s the happiest dog in the world right now,” she says, and Janis giggles, rubbing her thumbs over his soft ears. “Do you have pets?”

 

“A cat,” Janis replies. “A really old, grouchy cat. He spends most of his time sleeping.”

 

Cady is sitting backwards in her desk chair, chin on top of her hands as she watches them fondly. “I’ve always wanted a cat. I love kittens. But my dad’s allergic, go figure.” She rolls her eyes. Janis grins. “So we got Sonny instead. Christmas 2010. He was in a box with a bow around his neck and everything. I was so excited.”

 

Sonny yawns and lays his long golden retriever body across Janis’s lap despite his size. She pats his belly and continues petting his head. “He’s sweet,” she murmurs. “My mom loved dogs. Especially pit bulls. She used to volunteer at shelters and stuff.”

 

Cady notes the use of past tense, but isn’t going to coax yet another emotional story out of Janis today. “That’s cool. My parents think I’m crazy for wanting to be a teacher, not a veterinarian like them. Like, my dad works part-time as a professor, so I don’t get why he’s so against the idea.”

 

“Have you ever asked them why they care?” Janis inquires gently.

 

“Nah,” Cady says, frowning. “It’s easier to just…indulge them and shut up.”

 

“But they won’t indulge you?” Janis asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s kinda hypocritical.”

 

Cady snorts. “God, tell me about it. I can’t bring up my future career without them critiquing it. They aren’t mean, though, that’s the thing. It’s very subtle. They start listing all these reasons why I should be a full-time vet. And I’m like, that sounds stressful, and I’m squeamish when it comes to blood and stuff. I don’t want that. I love animals, but it would suck to operate on them and whatnot. I’d be an awful doctor.”

 

“I think you’d be good at it if it’s what you wanted,” Janis says thoughtfully. “But you don’t, so obviously it doesn’t appeal to you. What’s their damage?”

 

Cady snorts and shrugs. “Dunno. They’re mathematicians themselves, they met at a competition. And yet they want me to be a vet. It’s always what they want. Well, no. It’s what my _mom_ wants,” she corrects, voice gripped with abrupt conviction. “Yeah, it’s my mom, mostly. Miss Overbearing.”

 

Janis is quiet as Cady lets that settle before continuing. “She didn’t want me to go to private school. She wanted to keep homeschooling me. The ironic thing—you’re gonna love this—is that she probably thinks she’s a better teacher than the ones at school. Which is bullshit if she wants me to be a vet. How can she technically be a teacher then insist I should be a veterinarian like her? Why does she care? You’re right, she’s a total hypocrite.”

 

Janis listens intently. Wilson snoozes contentedly, blissfully unaware of the frustrating and isolating situations both girls are in. “I’m sorry, Caddy,” Janis whispers, and Cady swipes at her eyes, unwilling to cry in front of her again. Cady crawls onto her bed over to Janis and lays down on her back with a weary sigh.

 

“I’m just glad they let me go to school this year,” she admits. “I don’t even care that it’s private, or that it pushes me out of my comfort zone. It just—it’s sad that I see school as an escape from my mom. She’s so in my business all the time, we’ve spent the last ten years joined at the hip. And she’s not an easy person to keep up with. It’s tiring—she has so much energy and always wants to do stuff with me. And she still treats me like a kid, like I can’t think for or handle myself. She worries so much. Too much. And that makes _me_ worry, because now I’m second-guessing myself like she should be there doing it for me. It’s so—God. I don’t know. I just want to enjoy this school year and not wonder what my mom is doing or what she’d think of everything.”

 

Cady drags her hands down her face with a groan, then gasps and props herself up on her elbow. “Oh, Janis, I’m sorry.”

 

Janis blinks in surprise. “For what?” she asks, genuinely startled.

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be ranting about my mom like that,” Cady mutters, cheeks burning.

 

Janis’s brow furrows. “Why? It’s okay. You’re allowed to vent. It’s fine, really. I don’t mind. I can listen. I might not be able to help much, but…” She shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Stop giving me that look.”

 

“Sorry.” Cady pulls herself up to sit. Janis’s eyes are drawn to her mess of curls, almost in an admirable way, and Cady blushes deeper. Then Janis is quickly casting down her gaze to the dog in her lap, and Cady’s heart hurts. She knows that feeling—that tug of guilt and inward disgust at finding a girl pretty. Cady has felt that more in the last two days than she did in the year it took to realize she’s bisexual.

 

Cady looks at Janis looking at Sonny, wondering what she’d say if Cady told her. Nobody knows; it’s her own little secret, something she’s tucking away in her heart, mostly away from her mother. Her parents would be cool with it, but her mom would make it weird and Cady would regret telling her. But Janis would understand. She’d hug Cady, then thank her for trusting her with that information like Cady did to Janis earlier. But Cady isn’t sure how it’d seem, coming out to Janis right now. Janis might think Cady is coming on to her or something. Probably not, but Cady isn’t going to risk making things weird.

 

Cady breaks the silence by suggesting hopefully, “Wanna make popcorn and watch something on Netflix?”

 

Janis grins, and it’s a different kind of smile Cady can’t describe. But it makes her insides do that jumpy jittery thing. So it’s a good smile.

 

* * *

 

Cady is hyperaware of Janis sitting next to her on the couch. It makes her tense, and she hates it. But she can’t effectively get up and go sit in her father’s recliner without it seeming like Janis did something to upset her. So she jostles her leg restlessly, never looking at Janis as they both stuff their faces with popcorn.

 

Wilson sits on the floor in front of Janis, watching her hand go from the popcorn bowl to her mouth. She pets him in apology when she tells him he can’t have any. He sighs and puts his head down on her knee, trying to persuade her with his eyes.

 

“Don’t give in, Janis,” Cady says dramatically. “Don’t give in.”

 

“Not even a little piece?” Janis pouts, her soft spot for Cady’s dog clearly outweighing rational thought.

 

Cady shrugs. “I mean, I dunno how to do doggy CPR. Good luck with that.”

 

Janis makes a sad sound, but heeds Cady’s warning. Cady tells her she can finish the rest of the bowl, then pads to the kitchen to wash her hands. Her heart is pounding—it confuses her, where this anxiety is suddenly coming from. It’s not like Janis knows she’s bi or maybe-definitely has a bit of a crush on her. They’re just two girls on a sofa, eating popcorn, and watching _Stranger Things_. Big freaking deal.

 

Except her brain tells her it’s an even bigger deal than it should be and that Cady needs to do something about it but isn’t sure what and _oh God, just shut up, shut up, she’s my friend, it’d be weird and gross._ Cady stares out the window above the sink and tries to remember how to breathe.

 

“Are you trying to wash the skin off your hands?” Janis jokes, walking up, and Cady jumps with a scream, which makes Janis scream, which makes Wilson bark. “Oh, sorry! Sorry, Caddy. I didn’t mean to scare you. Oh, God, I’m sorry, I just keep—messing up. Sorry.”

 

“Fine,” Cady wheezes. “It’s fine.” She forces a laugh and shuts the faucet off, hands dripping into the sink. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

 

“Apparently,” Janis agrees, giving her a probing look. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Cady fibs, drying her hands a bit too aggressively, to no fault of her own. “I’m good. You want something else to drink?”

 

Janis doesn’t answer, watching Cady beeline for the fridge and stand there for an unnecessary amount of time. Janis rinses her own hands before joining her, gently closing the refrigerator door. “Hey. Do you want me to leave?” she asks quietly.

 

Cady looks at her sharply. “No,” she says automatically, even though she does. “No, I’m fine.”

 

“You don’t seem fine,” Janis argues, and looking up at her from the few inches between them, Cady feels small. “What’s going on? Did I do something?”

 

“No, no,” Cady says quickly, shaking her head. “No, not at all. I’m just—I don’t know. I feel weird.”

 

“Okay.” Janis fiddles with her watch, visibly itching to touch Cady in some capacity to help her. “Like, how? Maybe you ate too fast.”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Cady mumbles, scratching her neck. _I feel weird because I like you and I’ve become super uncomfortably aware of that in the last hour and not knowing if I can tell you I’m bi is driving me nuts and I feel bad doubting you but nobody else knows and today has just been a long, emotional day and I’m tired._

 

Honestly, Cady feels like a girl in a teen romance novel who thinks she’s in love with a guy after knowing him for only a day. Except she knows she isn’t in love with Janis—she merely finds her extremely pretty and it flusters her and makes all her organs collapse.

 

And it’s giving her anxiety and she can’t tell Janis that, or why.

 

“I guess I should get home anyway,” Janis murmurs, actually glancing at her watch. “My dad’s probably wondering where I am.”

 

“You didn’t tell him you were with me?” Cady asks, and instantly regrets it.

 

Janis snorts. “I said I was with Damian,” she confesses. “He’d get suspicious if I told him I was hanging out with you.”

 

“Ah.” Cady grimaces sympathetically. “So, he knows you’re…gay?”

 

Janis nods, folding her arms. “Yeah. I didn’t want him to know, but I was pulled from school for a reason.” She shrugs. “He’s cool with it, he just. You know. He is a straight, cisgender white guy from the south. I don’t expect him to know everything.”

 

She smiles ironically, and Cady nervously smiles back. “Imagine that. You don’t worry about your daughter hooking up with guys, but with girls,” Cady says.

 

Janis barks a laugh, and Wilson lifts his ears. “Yeah. And that’s worse.”

 

* * *

 

Janis promises to text Cady when she gets home, and blows a kiss to Wilson when he whines at her in the front window. Cady waves to her friend from the porch and stays there until Janis rides her bike out of Cady’s line of sight. Begrudgingly relieved, Cady goes back inside.

 

She straightens up the already pristine kitchen and throws their garbage out, then brings Wilson upstairs with her, deciding to take a shower in hopes that’ll calm her down. She waits until Janis texts her to get in the shower, and stands there for five minutes letting the warm water soak into her hair and heat her skin. She breathes in the steam, filling her sore lungs as it gradually slows the racing of her heart.

 

Afterwards, Cady dons her comfiest sweats, puts on music, and invites Wilson up onto her bed, flopping against her pillows with her phone. She taps into her texts, where a friendly argument has broken out between Janis and Damian in their group. Laughing, she sends a Bitmoji of herself holding up a sign that says STOP.

 

Damian screams her name in all caps and Janis does the same. So she yells their names and this pattern continues until one of them breaks—it’s Damian, surprisingly, and he sends a link to a Vine compilation Cady hasn’t seen. (Her friends in California weren’t very meme-oriented. Damian calls them “locals.”) Cady watches it, thankful for the distraction. Her mom texts her to ask how she’s doing; she says she’s fine, sending a selfie of her and Wilson to prove it.

 

At one point, Cady’s head starts reeling again, going back to what Janis told her. Regina George is even worse than Cady thought. She probably used that story to rope her boy toy Aaron into being with her, taking advantage of real situations in order to make a guy date her. It is a whole entire mess—layers of deceit and cruelty that don’t seem to affect anyone but Janis. But that was probably Regina’s plan all along.

 

Cady remembers what Damian started to say yesterday—that Regina and Janis used to be friends. A chill runs down her spine; imagine being someone’s friend, and being supposedly trustworthy enough to deserve such precious information only to turn around and use it against that person. Janis must’ve felt so betrayed. The fact it happened just this spring is wild to Cady. Six months ago was the worst time of Janis’s life. And now isn’t much better.

 

That flame from earlier comes back full force, and Cady chews her tongue as she contemplates what she could possibly do to get Regina to face consequences. Cady isn’t typically a confrontational or scheming person, but if she, Damian, and Janis put their heads together, maybe they’d come up with a way to bring Regina down once and for all. She smirks at the thought of Regina being expelled. After she admits her wrongdoing, apologizes to Janis, and Aaron breaks up with her.

 

Cady may not be belligerent, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth for her friends. Or be unafraid to tear down a queen bee’s hive.

 

* * *

 

Damian shows up at Cady’s house to walk with her to school after Cady begged him to, saying they had to discuss something important that Janis couldn’t know about. He hesitantly agreed, and having him meet her mom was worth if it means they could talk in private.

 

“Okay, so,” Cady says, splaying her hands emphatically as they start walking, “Janis told me about Regina and what she did. After yesterday, I’ve just been thinking about it all, and I figured maybe we could…I don’t know, try to make Regina pay.”

 

Damian snorts a laugh. “Make Regina _pay_? You mean like we get revenge on her?” Cady nods brightly, and Damian stops on the sidewalk to gape at her. “You’re serious? Um, Cady. Darling, dearest,” and he swings an arm around her shoulder like her father does when he’s about to give her advice, “ _no._ ”

 

“No?” Cady repeats, offended. “What do you mean, no? Why not?”

 

Damian rolls his eyes. “Honey. We can’t _get revenge_ on Regina George. Don’t be ridiculous. I know you’re new here, but don’t overestimate your spunky little self just yet. I agree, something needs to be done about her, but unless you want all three of us to mysteriously end up dead in a ditch, we have to think this through first.”

 

“Okay then, we’ll think it through,” Cady says, annoyed. “Obviously. I don’t have a plan, but we can come up with one together. I just want Regina to face the consequences. And for the truth to come out, for lack of a better term. People deserve to know what kind of conniving bitch she is.”

 

“Believe me, they already do,” Damian sighs. “If it seems like they’re all on her side, it’s because most of them are afraid of what will happen if they aren’t. Janis and I aren’t the only gay people at school, but we’re the only ones who are out. Nobody’s gonna risk being outed by Regina by not siding with her on everything.”

 

Cady gnaws her bottom lip thoughtfully, flexing her fingers absentmindedly. “I just want people to leave Janis alone. If we can get Regina to declare she lied about that stuff, people will stop thinking Janis is a creeper. Because they’ll believe Regina.”

 

Approaching North Shore, Damian rubs Cady’s arm. “You’re so naïve, sweet Caddy,” he says. “No matter how we twist it, no matter if Regina actually tells the truth, nobody will be brave enough to think she’s capable of that. Of lying about what Janis supposedly did. They’ll think someone—ahem, us, the outcasts—coerced her into recanting. It is painfully ironic, but that’s the reality. People will only take Regina’s word for it if it implicates Janis. She’ll always be sympathized with.”

 

They stare in mutual disgust up at the fortress of their school.

 

“The Outcasts,” Cady mutters, and Damian looks at her. “Well. At least we have a new name for our GC.”

 

He laughs all the way up the steps and into the gaping mouth of the building.

 

* * *

 

Janis is bewildered by the idea when Cady presents it to her during break. “You wanna _what_?” she asks, eyes wide.

 

Cady glances at Damian, who shrugs. “Um. I dunno. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

 

Janis rubs her temples. Cady notices her nails are freshly painted—inky black instead of the navy blue they were before. “Caddy,” she says in a strained voice. “That’s not… We can’t, babe. I have a feeling the Plastics would catch on and murder us.”

 

“That’s what I said,” Damian mutters, folding his arms ardently.

 

Cady needs a moment to recover from Janis calling her _babe._ While she’s reeling, something occurs to her, and she gasps. “Karen,” she blurts, and her friends stare at her expectantly. “Karen Smith. I met her in gym on my first day. She accidentally hit me in the head with a ball—” Janis scoffs and makes air quotes, “no, listen. She was nice. I didn’t know she was a Plastic until Regina called her back over. And when Gretchen—you know, did that? Karen was the only one who wasn’t laughing.”

 

“Oh, wow, a Plastic with decency,” Damian gushes sarcastically. “She’s too dumb to understand what was happening.”

 

“Damian,” Cady snaps protectively. She just has a sense about Karen, that maybe she’s a victim of Regina’s bullshit. If she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, Regina could be preying on her emotionally, knowing she’s vulnerable to authority. “You don’t know her.”

 

“Neither do you,” he fires back. “So what if she was nice to you one time, Cady? If Regina saw her, the next time you talk to her she could—”

 

“Next time I talk to her, I’ll ask her how she met Regina,” Cady interrupts, determined to find _some_ way to make this work. “I’ll get her alone during gym and say hi. See how it goes from there. I have to at least try, Damian. She’s the weak link.”

 

She doesn’t intend to make Karen turn against Regina, she just wants to chat and see where Karen is on the loyalty scale. It’s a test.

 

The bell rings. Janis and Damian are quiet as they gather their bags; Cady is already standing, fussing with the straps on her backpack. Janis looks at her for a minute then says, “You can do what you want. Just be careful. Karen might look sweet, but you never know. Let us know what happens.”

 

Cady feels obligated to hang back and watch as they go inside. Biting her lip, she gathers the courage to follow, a voice in her head telling her to quit while she’s ahead. It’d be smart to heed Damian’s advice, but this is important to her. She’s known Janis for two days and already wants to take down the bitch who made her life hell. No one can get away with harming Cady’s friends, even the people she just met. It’s not in her nature to back down.

 

Aaron Samuels feels Cady’s contemplative stare during calculus and turns around to give her a questioning look. “Hi,” he whispers. “Need something?”

 

“Huh? Oh, no.” She blushes and quickly looks back at her work, but he doesn’t.

 

“Can we talk for a minute?” he asks randomly, earning her attention again. “After class, I mean.”

 

Cady vividly recalls Regina’s threat and is conflicted. She’s curious as to what Aaron wants, but anyone could see them and report back to Regina. Cady decides it could be worth the risk, so she smiles and nods. Aaron either doesn’t know he isn’t supposed to be talking to Cady or the rule doesn’t apply to him. Either way, hopefully whatever he has to say will be quick and pointless and Cady will have fretted for nothing.

 

“Okay, um,” Aaron says later, scratching his neck, “I know what Regina told you the other day, and it’s…it’s dumb.” He rolls his eyes. “I talked to her about it. I said she can’t control who I’m friends with. I told her we were just talking when Gretchen saw us. That I’m allowed to have friends who are girls.” Cady vigorously nods her agreement. “So it’s not a big deal. Don’t be afraid to talk to me. If you want, I mean. I like you. I can keep Regina in check. She’s just protective of me.”

 

 _Or a control freak,_ Cady doesn’t say. She fixes a smile and nods. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I wasn’t sure how to handle that so that’s why I kinda…ignored you all day yesterday.” She laughs nervously. “Um, thank you. I appreciate it.”

 

She wants to ask him to keep Regina in check when it comes to Janis, but doesn’t want to risk it. Honestly, she sees Aaron a lot differently than she did on her first day. He didn’t call Regina out when she hurled homophobic crap at Janis yesterday and is dating her despite the reign of terror she’s inflicting upon this school. Silence is complicity and doesn’t help anyone but yourself. You can’t possibly disagree with your girlfriend’s nonsense but still like her as a person.

 

Even so, Cady makes a stunning realization after she and Aaron say goodbye and head in opposite directions. It’s so powerful it roots Cady to the spot with a gasp. Stomach fluttering with eagerness, she rushes to the girls’ locker room. This could change everything.


	4. pt 1: ch 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally switching to janis’s point of view for this chapter!
> 
>  **CH4 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  vomiting  
> dissociation  
> d slur

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### four

 

 

 

Janis parks her bike in the garage and spends a full minute searching for the spare house key because she forgot hers. She finds it hidden in the underbrush of overgrown, yellowing foliage beneath the basement window. Huffing, she twists it in the lock and goes inside.

 

“Dad?” she yells, not expecting an answer. While she’s there, she gathers her laundry from the dryer and takes the basket with her when she leaves, meandering through a quiet house to the staircase. Even at the foot, she can hear her father’s voice, muffled behind his closed door. He’s speaking heatedly into the phone, and Janis winces. It’s not often she hears him shout—he barely ever raises his voice at her. She wonders what could be wrong or what could’ve warranted such hostility.

 

She closes her bedroom door softly with her foot and sets the basket down on her bed, where Ollie is snoozing by her pillows. She plops her backpack on her desk chair to look for her phone, remembering she promised Cady to let her know when she got home. After shooting Cady a text, Janis sighs and toes her loafers off, glad to be free for a while. She opens her window to let the fresh air in then starts sorting her laundry.

 

Ultimately her dad’s phone call ends, and he pads down the hall to peer into her room. He smiles when he sees her, and she waves. “Oh, hey, pumpkin,” he says. He’s still in his work clothes, and he looks nice. He leans against the doorjamb, uncuffing his sleeves. “How was school?”

 

“Fine,” Janis answers, lying through her teeth. The day she tells her father anything about the stuff at school will be a cold day in hell. He already found out she’s gay before she wanted him to (which was somehow worse than her peers knowing), if he knew the teasing and bullying was continuing and getting worse he’d blow a gasket. As much as Janis hates going to school, she strangely craves the routine of ironing her uniform, biking there, and enduring eight hours’ worth of bullshit. It sucks but it’s what Janis is used to. She isn’t sure how she’d fare without that oddly reassuring continuity.

 

“Everything okay?” Janis asks her dad, folding up a pair of pajamas. “With work,” she adds when he looks at her questioningly.

 

“Oh, yeah,” he shrugs, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s all good. No worries, I wasn’t on the phone with them.”

 

Janis arches an eyebrow. “’Kay. Then who were you on the phone with?”

 

He opens his mouth, realizing his mistake. “Ah. Well. It’s nothing,” he says, scratching his ear. When Janis refuses to stop staring at him, waiting for a better answer, he has to give in and clarify, “Just—okay, fine. I didn’t wanna…tell you just yet, since nothing was really going on, but…” He motions for her to push the basket back so he can take a seat next to her. Janis goes pale, already guessing where this is headed. “I was, uh…seeing someone. Well, I am. This woman I met through work, her name is Abby. We went on a couple dates. Nothing too serious. But she called and wanted to know if she could come over, and I said no because you’d be here and I hadn’t told you yet, so it made her mad and… Yeah.” He shakes his head. “It was silly. She didn’t understand why I’m hesitant to introduce you.”

 

Janis swallows, a sour feeling settling on her tongue. She feels like she’s stepped outside of herself and is watching this from above. “You…have a girlfriend,” is all she can think to say, testing it out in her mouth. “You have a girlfriend. Who seems kinda thin-skinned.”

 

Mr. Sarkisian laughs once. “A little bit. I don’t know what’s going on with her, she must’ve had a bad day and was taking it out on me or something. I told her on our first date that I have a teenage daughter and it’ll be a slow adjustment for everyone. If anything came of us seeing each other, I mean.” He sighs.

 

It’s quiet for a minute before he inquires gently, “How do you feel about it? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was waiting for the right time. To see if it was worth it.”

 

Janis frowns thoughtfully, continuing her folding to hide the shaking of her hands. “No, I get it. Um. I don’t know. How to feel about it. I mean, you don’t need my permission. To see this woman. It’s been seven years, you’re…allowed to move on.”

 

That hangs in the air between them for a tense moment.

 

“Yeah, honestly, I don’t care,” Janis insists, though the quiver in her voice says otherwise. “If you like her, I hope you work it out. And she gets her shit together so she won’t yell at you for stupid reasons again. You’re not an idiot, I know you wouldn’t bring someone into our house if you thought there was a chance we wouldn’t get along. But I’m cool with it. You do what you want, Dad. Don’t let little old me stop you from having a girlfriend.”

 

Her dad smiles his gentle dad smile and brushes his knuckles over her cheek. “You’re a good kid. Thank you. I’ll figure it out so things can be normal and you two can meet. See how that goes.” Janis would rather die, but she isn’t going to tell him that. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone. Thanks for understanding.”

 

“Mmhm,” Janis hums, and he winks his cheesy dad wink before shutting her door.

 

Janis falls back onto her quilt and covers her eyes with a sock, wishing she were either dead or somebody else.

 

* * *

 

It occurs to Janis, like it usually does at random times throughout the week, that making dinner and doing laundry are things her mother should be doing. But because she’s gone, Janis had to learn how to pick up chores once she was old enough to help out her dad so he wouldn’t have to.

 

Janis likes cooking, she likes cleaning, she likes a tidy house with spotless surfaces, and she likes setting the table to serve whatever recipe she decided to whip up. But it’s sad, really, that she has to be a mother and caretaker to herself.

 

Her efforts, at least, never go unnoticed or underappreciated by her dad. Mr. Sarkisian, while a bit of a bumbling fool when it comes to his daughter’s sexuality and the stuff that transpired last spring, is thoughtful and makes sure she knows he sees everything she does. But Janis would rather have her mom back than be praised.

 

The girlfriend thing came out of nowhere, but Janis knows he’s well within his right to see someone. He probably has been this whole time with various women, but it never amounted to anything. Janis wonders if this time will be different. She’s unsure what that’d entail.

 

Similar to how she feels about school, Janis can’t stand the thought of her routine being messed up to accommodate somebody else.

 

She wants to ask questions about Abby, but the words die in her throat all throughout dinner. She can’t bring herself to care just yet. She tells Damian, who says to invest in face masks and candles to handle the inevitable stress of her dad’s dating life.

 

Which isn’t very helpful, but Damian doesn’t take anything seriously because negativity makes him uncomfortable. It’s a miracle how he’s lasted being Janis’s best friend for so long. Every day something new and horrible happens to her; why he hasn’t bailed on her in favor of his drama friends is a mystery to Janis.

 

She could tell Cady. She rolls over in bed to look at her phone, charging on her nightstand. She chews her lip pensively. Theoretically, yes, she could tell Cady. But despite the fact Cady has seen so much of Janis in two days, Janis can’t bring herself to write a text asking if she’s awake. She wouldn’t want Cady to lose sleep over this, anyway. She definitely would—the girl has a heart the size of the ocean.

 

Janis thinks back to earlier, when Cady started acting weird. Nervous and agitated, but in an uncontrollable way. Janis was beginning to feel anxious by proxy, so she won’t feel bad for departing early—it was probably the best for them both. She tries to push down thoughts of paranoia at the memory of spilling her guts to Cady. Being so honest and open like that was simultaneously terrifying and freeing—God, it was so freeing, to tell someone the truth in her own words. As much as it sucked rehashing it all, Janis still had the opportunity to come out on her own terms to someone she trusts. Damian is the only other person.

 

Janis struggles to fall asleep, but when she does, she dreams of a platinum blonde stepmother standing at her stove, and when she turns around it’s Regina holding a knife with a crazed smile on her face. The dream keeps repeating itself until Janis’s alarm blares at six-fifty, jolting her awake as she utters a small scream.

 

Janis gets that dissociative feeling again as she’s biking to school. Her head hurts and she’s not in the mood for anyone’s nonsense.

 

She gets to homeroom early to check her notes and doodle a bit in the margins. Cady makes a beeline for her when she and Damian walk in, and in Janis’s peripheral right before Cady eagerly reaches her, she sees Damian try to hold Cady back.

 

“Hi,” Cady says, beaming, and Janis can’t help but return the smile. Cady is like a drop of sun personified. Janis feels more like a raincloud.

 

“Mornin’,” Janis says as Damian walks up, looking majorly uncomfortable. “What is up, my dudes?”

 

Cady is practically bouncing. “Um, there’s something I wanted to talk about later. During break. Just FYI.”

 

Janis arches an eyebrow, and the vagueness doesn’t help with her anxiety. “Okay. About what?”

 

Cady taps her on the nose. “You’ll see,” she chirps before heading for her desk. Damian sighs dramatically.

 

“I tried to talk her out of it,” he hisses, squeezing Janis’s shoulder as he passes behind her.

 

* * *

 

As with most things that could upheave her life, Janis isn’t sure how to feel about the possibility of ending Regina George’s regime.

 

Janis is quiet as Damian and Cady bicker, and thanks the Lord when the bell rings. She hesitates before saying to Cady, “You can do what you want. Just be careful. Karen might look sweet, but you never know. Let us know what happens.”

 

She’s already tired of whatever shenanigans Cady is going to get herself into. She wants to talk to Karen Smith during gym, thinking Karen will spill Regina’s dirty secrets as if it isn’t Gretchen Wieners’ job to keep them. Cady is going to be in for a rude awakening when Karen inadvertently doesn’t cooperate.

 

Janis admires Cady’s grit, she really does, and she’s touched Cady wants to help. But Janis knows Regina—she’s seen that girl’s naked soul, and it isn’t as beautiful as her face. People tend to forget Regina used to be Janis’s friend. Or if they remember, they feel bad for Regina. Cady doesn’t know what she’s messing with—her sweet new girl naivety is going to land her in some deep shit, and there isn’t much Janis or Damian can do.

 

Janis is retrieving her gym clothes when Cady comes barreling into the girls’ locker room, weaving through people to get to her. Her eyes are wide and bright. “Come here,” she whispers, seizing Janis’s elbow and dragging her over to a private corner.

 

“Caddy, what are you doing?” Janis moans, already nauseous.

 

“It’s Aaron,” Cady says, and Janis raises her eyebrows for clarification. “Aaron Samuels. Karen isn’t the weak link, it’s him!”

 

“Oh-kay,” Janis says slowly. How much clearer does she have to make it so Cady knows this doesn’t matter to her?

 

“Janis!” Cady jostles her slightly. “I don’t need to crack _Karen_. It’s Aaron I need to use. If I can get _Aaron_ to get a grip on reality and see his girlfriend is a manipulative bitch, we can use him against her later. He told me he talked to her about what she said, about me not being ‘allowed’ to talk to him, and he promised he’d keep her in check. So, if I can be friends with him now, I can get inside his head and learn more about him and Regina.” She spreads her hands. “See? Weak link.”

 

Janis listens, saddened that Cady’s so relentlessly serious about this. “Caddy,” she begins gently, though she wants to scream at her to stop. “ _No._ Don’t get involved in this, I’ll beg on my hands and knees if I have to. I know this seems like a foolproof plan, but Regina is smarter than she looks.”

 

“Then help me,” Cady insists, grabbing Janis’s arms. “Tell me what you know about her.”

 

That stings for some reason. Cady isn’t thinking this through—it’s like she just wants to be the hero who took down Regina George over some petty high school shit. Outing someone and lying about them being a predator obviously is a huge deal, but Janis doesn’t think there’s anything they can do about it now. Only two more years til college, and they’ll all be going off in different directions. This “revenge” plot seems pointless.

 

Janis shoves Cady’s hands away, looking her in the eyes. “Stop. I’m telling you, putting this stupid plan into motion is only going to lead to more pain. Trust me, Cady. That girl will ruin your life before you can even so much as _think_ about the next phase of your plan. It’s not. Going. To be. Worth it. Okay?”

 

Cady looks conflicted, like she wants to listen to Janis but maybe also thinks Janis is crazy not to want this. If that’s the case, then Janis is proud to be out of her mind. She would rather deal with her peers and Regina’s attitude til graduation than watch her and the Plastics be dismantled and her life be ruined again thanks to some fearless ex-homeschooler who wants all the glory. People lie to themselves about their motives all the time. Cady might be no different. If she really cared about Janis, she would stop. But she talks so determinedly, with such conviction. It scares Janis.

 

Regina used to want all the fame and power, too. And she got it through terrorizing and subtle manipulation.

 

“We should get ready,” Janis murmurs while Cady is still struggling for an argument. Janis walks away and locks herself in a stall to change, but leans her forehead against the cool tile for a minute, just breathing, feeling like she’s twelve years old and in Regina George’s grasp.

 

* * *

 

Cady hesitantly walks up to their table at lunch, her bubble having been popped. “Hi. Am I still allowed to sit with you guys?”

 

“Yeah,” Janis mumbles, and stuffs a couple French fries into her mouth.

 

Damian looks between them as Cady sits down across from them. He clears his throat. “So. How’d it go with Karen?”

 

“Um.” Cady fidgets, not looking particularly hungry anymore. “I didn’t…talk to her.”

 

Damian makes a noncommittal sound, but doesn’t seemed surprised she backed down. “Good. Can we put this revenge party to rest, please?” Batting his lashes, he puts a caring hand on Janis’s shoulder. “For dear Janis’s sake, of course.”

 

Cady nods, curls bouncing. Janis’s heart flutters like it’s begun doing whenever that happens. “Right,” Cady says stiffly, picking at her veggies.

 

They eat in awkward silence. Janis scans the cafeteria out of boredom, eyes naturally drawn to the shiny plastic heads at Regina’s table. She hates Regina’s guts, she truly does, and wants her to face the consequences and reality of what she did to her. But not at the expense of Cady’s sanity or Janis’s safety. Any number of things could go wrong with Cady’s plan, and Janis doesn’t want her to risk it—not for her. It’ll seem petty in retrospect.

 

Lost in thought, she doesn’t realize she’s glaring at the back of Gretchen’s stupid head until Regina sees and tilts her head and gives Janis a simpering smile. She waggles her manicured fingers in an antagonistic greeting, her whole face dripping saccharine mockery. Janis quickly looks away, gagging, eyes stinging inexplicably. Regina smiles like that at a lot of people, but it’s the look in her eyes that she saves for Janis.

 

It’s a look that says _I see you, whether you want me to or not. I see you, and you belong to me, your life is in my perfect hands. I see you, and I can shape you into whoever or whatever I want you to be._ It’s a look of ownership. And Janis feels it in her core—that tug of a magnet itching to return to its partner against its will.

 

When Regina George sinks her claws in, there’s no letting go, even after you think you’re free.

 

* * *

 

Janis voluntarily pukes up her lunch before chemistry, hoping it’ll make her feel better. She tries not to think back to all the times Regina mentioned she should lose weight, even though Janis has always been at a healthy weight for someone her age and height. But she would purge occasionally for Regina, knowing it’d please her. And Regina would stand by the toilet and file her nails, watching as Janis stuck a finger down her own throat.

 

There was nothing Janis wouldn’t do for Regina. Janis doesn’t have to make herself gag today—just remembering is enough to do it.

 

Cady is tense and quiet at Janis’s side during class, stealing guilty glances at her pale face and far-off expression. Janis hurries out of class before Cady can talk to her. It’s jarring, the difference in the atmosphere around them now compared to yesterday. Things might’ve gotten awkward at Cady’s house, but Janis wasn’t mad at her. Now she isn’t sure how to feel. Empty and numb, but filled to the brim with uncomfortably itchy anger. Detached emotionally from her surroundings while still hyperaware of them. It’s not every day Janis disengages herself from reality, but if she didn’t she’d snap.

 

Janis hasn’t had a meltdown since July. The fireworks gave her anxiety and she broke down in tears on the ratty basement couch. She hasn’t cried much since. It’s like she’s a battery—she loses all her power and energy and needs to charge back up again, only to use up her strength having emotional breakdowns.

 

Damian intercepts her at her locker, where Cady smartly stays away from. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

 

Janis shakes her head, biting her tongue. She slams her locker shut harder than necessary and dons her backpack. “I’ll let you know when I get there,” she tells him, and it troubles him how strange her voice sounds. But Janis doesn’t notice or care, and squeezes his elbow in farewell before walking off, head down and into the crowd. Several people snicker when they see her, and the obligatory shout of “dyke!” echoes in her ears. The usual.

 

Cady is being greeted on the sidewalk by her mother, so Janis waits behind a pillar until they leave. She watches Cady take her mom’s hand and they walk off together. It’s a weird thing to see. Janis recalls Cady’s small rant yesterday, and while she understands Cady’s reasonable frustration, it’s clear she and her mom get along regardless of that. Janis hopes Cady doesn’t take a single moment for granted.

 

Once the coast is clear, Janis retrieves her bike, wisely choosing to walk rather than ride. If she were to get hit by a car, today would be the day.

 

She blinks, and she’s at her back door. She doesn’t go to her room yet, flopping down on the couch and sitting there for a while. She belatedly texts Damian so he won’t be freaking out over her whereabouts, then lays down with her shoes still on, staring at her reflection in the black mirror of her small television.

 

Janis doesn’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly she’s awoken by sensing someone’s presence. The basement is darker and the inside door is ajar, meaning her dad is home and wanted to be able to hear her if she called for him. But she’s the only one down here.

 

Janis shakes her head blearily, sitting up. She feels heavy and light at the same time. She takes her shoes and socks off, taking her backpack with her as she sluggishly goes upstairs. The living room TV is on, and she can smell her dad’s cigar. She wishes he’d smoke outside, as much as she finds comfort in the scent. Sighing, she trudges up the steps without saying hello to him, not wanting to be interrogated yet.

 

She stands beneath the warm jet of water for fifteen minutes before actually bathing. She pretends her mother is washing her hair.

 

Cady has been texting her, the last message asking if Janis is okay and that she’s sorry about earlier. Janis tosses her phone in her drawer and buries herself in her pillows with her cat at her feet. It’s barely six o’clock and she hasn’t eaten since lunch, but nothing really matters. She wants to sleep.

 

Regina used to serenade her at sleepovers. As she’s pulled under, the memory is still soothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: janis does not have an eating disorder nor will she develop one in the future. purging is a coping mechanism but she doesn’t indulge in it frequently, just at times where she is overwhelmed and needs an outlet for her feelings.


	5. pt 1: ch 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CH5 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  intrusive thoughts  
> reference to self harm  
> panic attacks  
> d slur

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### five

 

 

 

Cady wants to simultaneously slam her head against a wall and set herself on fire. She isn’t sure which is the better punishment.

 

Janis won’t talk to her, and it feels like the world just turned upside down. Janis has a glassy look in her eyes during chemistry, and Cady doesn’t attempt conversation. She would only make it worse, and she has already done enough.

 

She sighs, retying her shoelace on a step as she waits for her mom to show up. She hears her name being called, and practically throws herself at her mother, relieved that _someone_ is happy to see her. Mrs. Heron laughs in surprise, but hugs her back ecstatically.

 

When in doubt, turn to your mother for basically anything.

 

Hands linked, they set off for home. Cady feels like she can actually breathe again, like she’s been holding her breath ever since Janis went off on her before gym. The guilt is eating away at her stomach, but at least she can breathe. One step at a time to make things right. Cady swears she’ll make it right.

 

After thinking it through all day, and with Janis’s face in the locker room seared into her memory, Cady has concluded she jumped the gun. She is still sure she could break Aaron, but she has no backup plan or a plan B. And if her friends are unwilling to help, she can’t do this on her own. The Plastics are too much to take on alone. It’s Regina she’d mostly have to worry about, though Gretchen seems shady, too.

 

“What’s going on, baby?” Mrs. Heron is asking, squeezing Cady’s hand and tucking loose curls behind her ear.

 

“Huh?” Cady looks up from her shoes. “Oh, nothing. It’s just…been a long first few days, I guess.”

 

Her mom pats her arm sympathetically. “One more day and then it’s the weekend. You should invite your friends over for dinner.”

 

Cady laughs without meaning to, and her tone grabs her mother’s attention. “Ah. Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”

 

Blessedly, Mrs. Heron doesn’t push it, even though she senses something is wrong. Cady changes the subject by asking how work is going, and they talk about that the rest of the walk home. Wilson is there to greet them at the door, and Cady stoops down to rub his face and receive slobbery kisses.

 

Mrs. Heron goes back to work at four-thirty, so Cady lounges downstairs on the couch in her sweats, flipping through TV channels but not really interested in anything. She has her phone close in case Janis or Damian want to talk. Specifically Janis.

 

But the only notifications she gets are Instagram likes from her friends in California, and soon her reminder to do her homework. Bored and agitated, Cady goes back up to her room with Wilson at her heels. (Wherever she goes, he has to go, too, on the off chance she’ll pay attention to him.) It takes her longer than usual to finish her work out of worry for Janis and frustration at herself for her behavior today. Putting her pencil back in its cup, she folds her legs up on her desk chair and starts texting Janis. Saying she’s sorry and won’t cross boundaries anymore. Telling Janis she misses her and hopes she’s okay.

 

Janis doesn’t respond, leaving Cady on delivered. Cady won’t bother messaging Damian, convinced he isn’t going to talk to her, either.

 

Cady straightens her room and throws open the window, hoping the cool September air will cleanse the atmosphere somehow. She feels like she’s a balloon filling with air, set to explode at any minute. Her brain kicks into overdrive and starts tossing out thoughts she’d rather not think and make her want to do things she’d rather not do.

 

Like _take the pencil and stab yourself with it_ and _use Dad’s razor to slice your wrist, just a little bit_ and _your friends hate you, Janis hates you, you don’t know what to do with all this new freedom, so you decided to fuck everything up_ and _you’d deserve it, find some pain and feel it, it’s what you deserve._ Over and over, chasing each other inside her head like cat and mouse until she’s slamming her closet door shut and covering her ears with her hands. It’s hard to breathe and she gets that trapped feeling that usually overwhelms her when her mother is being uncontrollably annoying.

 

Once upon a time, she used to give in to these thoughts, spurred by the pressure and anxiety involuntarily instilled in her by her mom. But she hasn’t touched a blade since she started making real friends a few years ago. When spending time with them masked the fear of disappointing her mother.

 

Now there’s fear of disappointing everyone else. Not just her mom. Maybe she would deserve pain after the crap she pulled on poor Janis today.

 

The waves of panic make everything darker and Cady presses herself up against the wall, gasping like a fish out of water. It lasts for what feels like centuries, even then as it’s beginning to taper off into the post-attack fuzziness Cady still can’t catch her breath.

 

* * *

 

Janis still hasn’t responded to Cady’s texts by the following morning, so she nervously messages Damian asking if he’s heard from her.

 

  

She walks to school alone, biting her thumbnail as she waits for a response. Her stomach flips when the text bubble appears.

 

 

Her sigh is only somewhat relieved. At least Janis is well enough to come back to school. Cady puts her phone away and starts rehearsing what she wants to say in person so Janis knows she’s sincerely sorry. Apologies are hardest face-to-face.

 

Cady sits on a bench outside, gripping the edge as she waits for Damian’s mom’s car to roll up. She’d very much like to puke in a nearby bush.

 

“New girl looks like she’s gonna hurl,” says the unmistakably irritating voice of Regina George, and Cady leaps up. The Plastics are meeting up on the sidewalk, and Regina apparently has some thoughts about Cady’s body language. Cady automatically smooths her skirt, self-conscious.

 

People are staring, snickering as they pass. Regina struts over, black heels clicking on the cement. “What’s got you so nauseated, sweetie?” she simpers, and Cady tenses up like she’s bracing to be hit. Regina hasn’t lifted a finger, but she’s still threatening as hell.

 

“None of your business,” Cady mumbles, avoiding eye contact lest she actually throw up all over Regina’s shoes. Someday, but not today.

 

Gretchen gasps softly and Regina raises her stupidly perfect eyebrows at her response. “Hm. Well, maybe your mommy should come and take you home.”

 

Cady doesn’t even think before she’s firing back, “Maybe yours should’ve raised a more pleasant daughter.”

 

 _Ooh_ ’s murmur throughout the gathered crowd, though Cady feels it fell flat once spoken aloud. Regina looks pretty pissed, though, and Cady simply smiles up at her as her face turns as pink as her eyeshadow. (Which she’s totally breaking the school rules by wearing. Not that rules apply to Regina.)

 

“Caddy!” someone shouts, and while Cady’s turning to see Janis and Damian exiting the car, Regina’s claw-like hands are thrusting towards her chest. A second later Cady finds herself sprawling on the sidewalk, and people’s reactions get louder.

 

“Hey!” Janis roars as Damian bends down to check on Cady. Stunned, she can’t fully process what just happened, not having expected Regina to get physical in front of an audience. Never underestimate the power of the queen, though. Cady chastises herself for thinking otherwise.

 

“Get away from me, dyke,” Regina is snarling as Damian helps Cady to her feet. Cady’s jaw drops in horror, and Damian squeezes her arms, both to hold her back and out of rage. Their peers are laughing and gawking. Janis falls silent.

 

Regina tugs at her uniform to straighten it, as if she didn’t muss it up herself. Gretchen puts an arm around her and guides her away and up the steps. Karen hangs back; it appears she wasn’t prepared for that, either, and meets Cady’s eyes for a moment over Janis’s slumped shoulder. Then she’s ducking her head and following her friends to the school entrance after Gretchen angrily screeches her name. The crowd begins to disperse now that their divine leader has left the premises.

 

Damian releases Cady and they both go to Janis. Cady touches her elbow, looking at her face. Janis’s hands are white-knuckled fists at her side, and her face is paler than snow. She’s more ashen than Cady was when Regina decided to butt in and make a scene.

 

“Jan?” Damian mutters softly, but the bell blares, drowning him out. Janis suddenly jerks back to herself and shies away from them.

 

“I’m fine,” she says in a strange, hollow voice, and hurries off, leaving her friends concerned and helpless on the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

Cady and Damian meet up in the hall to look for Janis, who has disappeared after history. When she is not already in health class, they head for the ladies’ room. Cady has Damian wait outside since there’s actually people in there this time, and discreetly walks in.

 

Someone taps her on the shoulder, and she whirls around so fast her curls whip her in the face. The girl points to the stall at the very end. “Sarkisian’s in there,” she says in a whisper. “If you’re looking for her.” Then she gives Cady a look.

 

Cady ignores the judgment in her eyes. “Thanks,” she says with a small nod, then pushes past gossiping girls to get to Janis, heart thrumming in her chest. She taps on the door a couple times. “Janis? It’s Cady. Um—I know I’m probably the last person you wanna see—”

 

The door unlocks, and Cady yelps as Janis grabs her and yanks her in by the sweater, relocking the door when she closes it behind Cady.

 

Cady is surprised given the fact there’s witnesses, already guessing what they’re going to be saying by lunch. Janis tucks her hair back and folds her arms, sighing down at her feet. “Why did Regina push you?”

 

“Uhm—I got sassy,” Cady answers honestly, smiling a little, proud of herself. Janis looks anxious. “And she didn’t like that.”

 

Janis rubs her finger over her bottom lip. “You can’t do stuff like that,” she warns, keeping her voice low. “You’ll only make yourself more vulnerable to her…retaliations. She won’t let that go, Caddy. And people heard and saw what happened. She probably told a teacher, so don’t be shocked if you’re called to the office.”

 

Well, shit. Cady didn’t think of that. “But she pushed _me_ ,” she argues.

 

Janis’s expression is strained. “Have you listened to anything me or Damian have told you? _It doesn’t matter whose fault it was._ ” She grabs Cady firmly by the shoulders. “It doesn’t matter if she started it. Don’t you get it? She has control over everybody, not just us. That girl can muster tears faster than a soap actress, and with Gretchen kissing her ass, who knows what kind of trouble you could get in. She twists every story, Cady. She’s always the victim.”

 

Cady grits her teeth against the urge to say, “Then let’s do something about it.”

 

The bell again. But Janis refuses to look away, desperately staring Cady down until she caves. “Okay,” Cady ultimately murmurs, realizing she’s grasping Janis’s elbows. (It would probably be ill-timed to steal a romcom moment and kiss her, right?)

 

“Promise me,” Janis whispers, digging her fingers into Cady’s shoulders, “promise me you’ll stay away from her. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

Cady nods, and Janis hides her quivering chin by pulling Cady into an abrupt but welcome hug. Cady embraces her friend fiercely, face tucked in Janis’s neck. (She smells good. Soft and clean. It’s terribly distracting.) She’s vaguely aware they’re going to be late to class, but lately nothing is as important as Janis Sarkisian when in need.

 

They don’t say anything when they pull apart. Cady takes Janis’s hand and squeezes it, then lets her leave first. Taking advantage of the now empty bathroom, Cady leans over the sink and splashes water on her face. She feels breathless.

 

 _Get it together, Heron,_ she scolds. _She’s not gonna wanna date you if you’re a) a vengeful weirdo and b) borderline obsessed with her._

 

So, perhaps it’s a good thing Cady is seated so far away from Janis during health class, given the topic. She does, however, peek over at her, endeared by how Janis rests her chin on her arms, making a disgusted face at the screen. She feels Cady’s glance and smirks at her with a wink.

 

A fucking wink. Cady slides down in her chair, something prickling between her thighs.

 

Things are relatively normal again at lunch, though Cady still intends to offer an in-person apology when she can. Janis and Damian swap places so there’s more of a barrier between Janis and everyone else. Janis occasionally and inexplicably nudges Cady’s foot with hers.

 

Remembering her mother’s suggestion, Cady brightens up when she says, “Oh, hey. My mom said you guys can come over for dinner this weekend.”

 

Damian gasps in delight and Janis hums her approval. “We could have a sleepover, too,” Damian gushes, hands flat on the table. Janis elbows him.

 

“That’s coming on a bit strong,” she says, half-jokingly. Cady grins.

 

“I’ll ask,” she tells them, and Damian claps. He toned down his natural vibrancy upon meeting Cady’s mom yesterday, so meeting the real him will ease her parents’ worries about a boy sleeping over. If only they knew their daughter liked a girl instead.

 

She recalls her conversation with Janis in her kitchen, how Janis’s dad has to wonder if she’s hooking up with girls, and how that’s worse than boys.

 

Cady feels that deeply all of a sudden, and something aches in her heart.

 

* * *

 

Cady is called to the principal’s office right as lunch is ending, and every head turns to stare at her.

 

She gulps, and her friends give her alarmed but sympathetic looks. Sighing, she stands and exits the cafeteria, Regina’s cackle following her all the way down the hall. She takes a deep breath before entering the administration office, where the woman behind the counter directs her towards the principal’s.

 

Cady quietly enters Principal Duvall’s office, every blood vessel pounding. Mr. Duvall looks up when she comes in, and stands to greet her, but his face is solemn. “Ah, Miss Heron,” he says, and gestures to a seat. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Please sit down.”

 

Cady awkwardly perches in one of the fancy chairs placed in front of his desk. _You didn’t do anything wrong,_ she tells herself. _Just be honest._

 

“I received word that there was an altercation between you and Regina George this morning, is that correct?” he inquires.

 

“Yes, sir,” Cady answers softly, flattening her skirt nervously. It’s no surprise Regina wasn’t called here with her.

 

“Several people said you provoked Miss George with verbal threats,” Mr. Duvall continues, and Cady does her best to compose her face. “Others said you both had a hand in antagonizing one another. I already spoke to Miss George, but want your account.”

 

Oh. Well, at least he talked to Regina. Not that she told the truth.

 

“Um, well.” Cady fidgets, hating feeling like she’s under a microscope. “I was sitting on a bench waiting for my friends. Regina saw me and told me I looked like I was about to throw up. Regina came over to _me_ and asked—not that she really cared—what was wrong, and then I said it wasn’t her business, so she said my ‘mommy’ should come and pick me up. And then I…I made some comment back to her, basically calling her out for being rude, and so she pushed me to the ground. I wasn’t physical with her for even a second, sir. I was calm and merely standing up for myself. Sir.”

 

That’s the whole entire truth, but she still feels like she’s lying. Mr. Duvall listens, frowning thoughtfully.

 

“And then, um,” Cady adds belatedly, unthinkingly hoping to stick up for Janis as well, “my friends Janis and Damian showed up and came to help me. Regina screamed at Janis and called her a…a slur. Even though Janis hadn’t done anything to her, either. And that’s…that’s what happened.”

 

“All right,” Mr. Duvall says after a contemplative moment. “Thank you for your honesty, Miss Heron. You’ve only been here a few days but I have heard excellent things from your teachers. However, Miss George told a different tale, but considering the lack of evidence to support either of your claims I’m letting you both off with a warning. Please remain on your best behavior. This school is a privilege for many and I expect our students to uphold our rules and policies. Is that clear, Miss Heron?”

 

She nods, eager to get out of here. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

 

They stand and he shakes her hand prior to dismissing her. Cady is at the door when he gently says her name and she turns with a meek “sir?”

 

She already knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “Your friend, Janis,” he says, slowly, uneasily. “You’re well within your right to befriend her, but I would be very cautious around her. She’s…troubled.” _Yeah, no shit, with all the homophobia she faces on a daily basis. No-discrimination policy my ass, Mr. Duvall._ “She was involved in some disturbing events this past spring. The only reason she wasn’t expelled is because she’s a gifted artist, and the situation was rather unclear.” That’s sorta screwed up if you think about it, in a backwards way, even though Janis _didn’t_ assault Regina.

 

Cady finds it odd that Janis _wasn’t_ expelled. Boys get away with actually hurting girls all the time and nobody does anything because their reputations need to be protected. Janis is a girl, a lesbian—how the school’s misogyny didn’t rear its ugly head and kick her out is a mystery to Cady.

 

Cady presses her lips together, hand clenched on the door handle. “I think a lot of people are wrong about Janis, sir,” she responds delicately, then adds with sudden edge, “And I’m going to prove it. Especially to you. With all due respect, sir, Regina isn’t what she appears to be, either. There’s two sides to every story.”

 

Mr. Duvall smiles without humor. “I’m well aware, Miss Heron.”

 

Cady isn’t sure what to make of that. So she nods, and quietly leaves.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, no,” Janis murmurs, wide-eyed, as soon as Cady walks up. “What’s wrong?”

 

“What? Nothing.” Cady shrugs, taking her bag from Damian. “He talked to Regina, but he wanted to hear it from me. He let me off with a warning.”

 

Janis visibly deflates with relief. “Christ. I expected something worse than that.”

 

Cady shakes her head, entranced as Janis runs a hand through her hair. Damian notices but she doesn’t notice him noticing.

 

Then they have to get to class, and Cady is glad there’s no weird tension between her and Janis during chemistry (the most ironic class they have together). She manages, with great effort, to muster the courage to say as it’s ending, “Hey, um, can we talk?”

 

Janis raises her eyebrows, but nods. Cady gathers her thoughts for a moment, and Janis waits patiently.

 

“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” Cady ultimately says, folding her hands, unable to look Janis directly in the eye. “I know I said it over text, but…I wanted you to hear it. I’m sorry for getting ahead of myself and thinking I could just…take Regina down. And in the locker room, I shouldn’t have asked you to use your past with her against her. That wasn’t fair. I just—I don’t know. I just like you a lot—as a friend,” she says quickly. She doesn’t see Janis’s mouth quirk. “And I feel terrible over what happened and how the people here treat you. It just made me so mad that Regina got away with it and her attitude encourages people to treat you bad.”

 

Janis nods, and they’re waved out of the room by their teacher. Once they’re back in the hall, Janis brushes her arm against Cady’s. “Thanks,” she answers belatedly. “Um. I don’t really know what to say. I appreciate the apology, though,” she assures when Cady starts to look fearful.

 

Cady links their elbows and rests her head on Janis’s arm. “Thank you for giving this ex-homeschooler weirdo a chance,” she laughs, and Janis hums.

 

“Sure thing, outcast number three,” Janis replies cordially, and Cady giggles.

 

Janis walks Cady to zoology, and it feels oddly romantic when they have to let each other go and say goodbye. Cady doesn’t necessarily feel sparks flying between them—it’s like they skipped the sparks and went directly to needing physical contact without understanding why. Well, Cady knows why she likes being near Janis so much, but it’s presumptuous to assume Janis feels the same. She probably doesn’t.

 

It's too soon to tell, anyway. They’ve known each other for three days. They’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of friendship.

 

But it’s getting clearer to see with each passing moment spent together. And Cady likes what’s shining through.


	6. pt 1: ch 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my favorite chapters. excited to finally post it!
> 
> no trigger warnings for this chapter!

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### six

 

 

 

The trio discuss dinner and sleepover plans the following day at lunch. Cady talked to her parents about it last night at dinner, and they were receptive to the idea. It actually surprised Cady that they said yes—she was prepared to get on her knees and beg. But they just seemed pleased how quickly she’d made friends and trusts and likes them enough to let them spend the night. Cady is cautiously optimistic, though. She won’t put it past her mom to hover and be super weird.

 

They’re leaving the cafeteria when Regina calls Cady’s name, and Janis gives her a look that says _Don’t engage._ But Cady whirls on her heel anyway, instinctively reacting to someone needing her for something. Regina crooks a finger, beckoning her.

 

Janis hangs back, but Damian follows Cady, keeping a safe distance while still being there if things escalate. Cady raises her eyebrows at Regina expectantly. “What?” she demands, hands on her hips. She’s aware she sounds frightened but tries to look braver than she feels.

 

“Feeling better today?” Regina asks in a faux concerned voice. Beside her, Aaron avoids looking at Cady. So much for keeping Regina in check.

 

“I am, thank you,” Cady responds rigidly. “Did you want something?”

 

Gretchen nudges Regina with her elbow, as if she’s encouraging her. Regina inhales before getting to her feet; the others do the same, like they weren’t allowed to leave til she did. “I think we got off to a bad start,” Regina says, strolling around the table to Cady.

 

“That’s an understatement,” Cady mutters, heart pulsing the closer she gets.

 

“Anyway.” Regina crosses her arms, sweeping Cady from head to foot. Cady fidgets uneasily. “You’ve got spunk, new girl. You aren’t afraid to get in people’s faces. So that made me think, and I decided maybe we should start over. I could use someone who doesn’t back down from a challenge.”

 

Cady can’t believe what she’s hearing. “You…are you trying to recruit me?”

 

Regina shrugs, brushing something off Cady’s shoulder just because she can. Her nails being so close to Cady’s neck gives Cady the heebie-jeebies. “If you want the job,” she clarifies, and Cady huffs. “Think about it, new girl. You might find that sitting with us isn’t so bad.”

 

She taps her fingers to her lips in a goodbye kiss then flounces away, her drones and Aaron trailing after her. Cady stares at the floor, breathing through her mouth in hopes she’ll be able to keep her lunch down. Janis and Damian converge in an instant.

 

“Are you okay?” Janis asks, touching Cady’s arm. She sounds offended on Cady’s behalf. “Literally what is she on?”

 

Cady puts her face in her hands and groans. “I don’t know, but I’m sick of her already. Of all the things I expected her to do, that wasn’t it.”

 

“Hey, new girl,” a voice from behind says, and they all turn to see some kid looking at Cady with wide eyes. “I’d take Regina up on that offer if I were you. She hates getting told no. If you don’t—watch your back. Take it from me.” He shudders, then walks away before any of them can answer him.

 

“I like my friends,” Cady says confidently to Janis and Damian, looping her elbows through theirs. “I’d rather take the hit than be a Regina enthusiast.”

 

“You’re a good egg, Caddy,” Damian says affectionately. He sounds emotional.

 

* * *

 

Cady tries not to look like she’s dressed up for a date. She changes her outfit three times, settling on jeans and a sleeveless, dark red flowy tank top. She pulls her curls up and off her face, dabbing a bit of concealer on but forcing herself not to wear mascara.

 

She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. Well, no, she does. Her friends aren’t going to embarrass her—it’s her parents she’s anxious about. With the spare few minutes til Janis and Damian show up, she claps to get their attention. Her mom is finishing setting the table, and her dad is already seated. They look at her keenly.

 

“Okay.” Cady exhales, then clasps her hands. “Please, please, please. Don’t ask weird questions. Don’t get in anybody’s business. Yes, Damian is gay, but don’t talk about it unless he brings it up. Don’t ask about school. Just—talk to them like they’re normal people, because they are normal people. Ask about what they like and stuff. Don’t tell stories about me when I was a kid, I’ll literally set myself on fire. And—yeah. Just. Don’t embarrass me, please. They’re my first real friends I’ve had in a while. They’re cool, you guys will like them, but don’t scare them away from me, okay?”

 

Her parents gape at her. Then her mom fixes a smile and says, “Of course. We love you, we wouldn’t do anything on purpose.”

 

“Okay, but don’t do anything on accident, either,” Cady implores, going to get the door because the bell rang.

 

She’s beaming before she’s even opened the door. Damian and Janis mirror her expression, and Janis awkwardly thrusts a bundle of fresh flowers at Cady. Cady loses her breath for a moment until Janis explains, “They’re for your mom. My dad said it’d be a polite gesture.”

 

“Aw, thanks,” Cady gushes, mentally kicking herself for thinking maybe, just maybe, they were for her. “Well, come in, it’s cold.”

 

Mrs. Heron has been lingering behind her, and greets their guests with a big, motherly smile. “Hi, kids,” she says, and Cady instantly wants to die.

 

Cady hands her the flowers. “Mom, they got these for you,” she tells her tightly.

 

“Ohhh! They’re beautiful!” Mrs. Heron squeals, taking them as Cady’s friends hang up their coats. “Thank you, you guys are so sweet.”

 

Cady feels a flicker of pride when Janis steps forward to introduce herself, knowing how awkward meeting your friends’ parents can be. Mrs. Heron tells Janis she loves her outfit—which is pretty cute, cuter than Cady’s, with her bangs clipped back, leaving her face more exposed. She’s so goddamn pretty.

 

Mrs. Heron hugs Damian in greeting while Cady hugs Janis, having missed her despite only seeing her a few hours ago. “You look nice,” she murmurs.

 

Janis blushes and looks down at her clothes. “Eh. Thanks. So do you.”

 

They smile at each other and Cady bumps her arms to Janis’s. Mrs. Heron leads the kids down the hall into the dining room, where Mr. Heron waits to meet them.

 

Overall, in the five minutes it takes for her friends to get acquainted with her parents, it’s not as traumatizingly embarrassing as Cady was expecting. She mouths _thank-you_ at her parents before leading her friends to the staircase, so they can head up to Cady’s room before dinner.

 

Cady is struck with a dilemma the moment they walk in, and hates that she didn’t think twice about it until now. Damian gets the guest bedroom, but Janis is sharing Cady’s bed. With Cady. While Cady is in it. Sleeping together. Next to each other.

 

“Whoa, are those glow in the dark stars on your ceiling?” Damian is asking, oblivious, the decorations already softly glowing in the dimly lit room.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Cady says as Janis puts her bag down on Cady’s desk chair. She has a funny look on her face, like she realized the bed situation when Cady did.

 

Cady shows Damian where the guest room is, and while he’s exploring Cady turns back to Janis and says quickly, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think about the bed,” the same time Janis insists, “I can sleep on the couch.” And then that hangs in the air between them. _Shit, shit, shit._

 

“No, don’t be silly,” Cady says, shaking her head. “I’ll take the couch. Or maybe we have a blow-up bed in the attic. Or something.”

 

Her bed actually being big enough for both of them is beside the point. It’s that it’ll feel too small if they’re in it together.

 

“I’ll go ask my mom, I’ll be right back.” Cady hurries back downstairs, humiliated. She all but slides into the kitchen and hurries to her mother, who is finishing up dinner. “Hi. We have a problem. Please tell me we have a blow-up bed for Janis.”

 

Mrs. Heron blinks at her. “Uhm—I’m not sure, check the attic,” she replies, sounding befuddled as to why Cady’s so frazzled.

 

So Cady goes back upstairs and pulls down the attic ladder. Damian emerges from the guest room to inhale excitedly. “Oh, are we hunting for ghosts?”

 

“No,” Cady replies curtly, scrambling up the ladder. “Janis needs somewhere to sleep.”

 

He snorts, standing on the bottom row and watching her climb into the attic. “Your bed can fit three people, at least.”

 

“That’s not the point, weirdo,” Cady calls down to him, rifling through unpacked moving boxes. “She shouldn’t have to share a bed with me.”

 

“Caddy, I really don’t mind taking the couch,” Janis pipes up. Cady’s getting that claustrophobic feeling again as she opens boxes and pilfers them with shaking hands. She can’t share a bed with Janis, that’s the last thing she’s capable of handling right now. She’d actually combust.

 

She feels like her brain is short-circuiting. The fuse on the dynamite is running out.

 

“Fuck. How do we not have a fucking blow-up bed?” She tosses a box back and looks around at the clutter. The ladder squeaks, then Janis appears and crawls up to help. Cady sinks onto the platform floor and puts her head between her knees, overwhelmed.

 

“I’m sorry, Janis,” she moans, as Damian pokes his head up to see what’s going on. Janis sits down beside her and rubs her back.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” she says softly. “Just breathe. Don’t—don’t freak out.” _I’ve been freaking out since you got here._ “It’s okay. If it’s fine with your mom, I really don’t care if I have to sleep on the couch. I sleep on my couch all the time.”

 

“It’s true,” Damian chimes in. “Sometimes I’ll go to her house when she won’t answer my texts and she’s sleeping on the sofa in her basement like an angel.”

 

Janis flips him off. Cady utters a shaky laugh, appreciative of Damian’s well-timed humor.

 

Cady calms down faster than she normally would thanks to them, and then feels absolutely ridiculous for getting upset. She was worried about her parents when in reality it was herself she should’ve been reining in. Freaking out over sharing a bed with Janis… That’s kind of stupid, right?

 

Dinner goes by blessedly fast and Cady is so grateful her mom and dad follow her rules. Damian makes everybody laugh, and Mrs. Heron is pleased by how often he says something nice about the house or food. He’s a suck-up, but a good one.

 

The trio take Wilson for a walk after they eat, and the cool fresh air helps further relax Cady. Damian and Janis take plenty of pictures and add to their Snap stories, despite knowing Cady is basically the only one who will see them. She’s their only friend outside of each other, too.

 

“Strike a pose, Caddy,” Damian orders, aiming his phone at her. Cady does a terrible job at it, but Janis doubles over with laughter. The sound soothes Cady’s nerves. She hopes, even though nothing could possibly happen between them, that Janis’s laugh always makes her feel better. It’s so rare, and so good.

 

The temperature drops on their way back, and Janis presses her arm to Cady’s, hugging herself for warmth. Damian takes Wilson so he can film a very interesting video of the dog sniffing the sidewalk, narrating as if it’s a groundbreaking, newsworthy event.

 

Cady snickers at Damian’s shenanigans, but Janis is contemplative and quiet. Cady bumps her gently to grab her attention. “You okay?”

 

Janis sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just thinking about earlier, with Regina.” She pauses, and Cady senses a question. “What do you think would happen if you decided to be friends with her? Like, hypothetically, of course. I don’t see that actually happening, you’d be fucking miserable.”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Cady agrees. “Um. I don’t know. I mean, if I did it, it’d be to break up the Plastics from the inside. But I don’t actually want to be a genuine Plastic. Doesn’t seem fun at all. I’d only become a brainwashed drone like Gretchen and Karen.” She shudders. “I don’t wanna end up like that. I like having free will.”

 

Janis is grinning cynically. “It’s weird regaining it after escaping someone like that,” she murmurs, and even Damian stops filming to fall back into step with them to listen. “I forgot who I was for a while when I was friends with her. I wasn’t Janis, I was…Regina’s Janis. Plastic Janis. She took me and shaped me into someone I didn’t recognize.” She looks ashamed as she talks, like it’s her fault. “And I knew…I knew that wasn’t who I wanted to be. But Regina was the only friend I had. My best friend. And she sorta took control of my life. And I let her. I don’t know why, but I did.”

 

“Jan,” Damian says softly, reaching behind Cady to touch Janis’s shoulder, but she shrugs him off.

 

“So, my point is,” she continues, her voice wobbling ever so slightly, “Regina George will suck out your soul and curse you like a witch.”

 

“That’s an insult to actual witches,” Damian remarks, which makes her laugh.

 

Cady gently grasps Janis’s elbow. “Well, no worries. I’m an Outcast first, a Plastic never.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that, Caddy,” Janis replies, and now her tone is warm.

 

* * *

 

By nine o’clock, they’re propped up against the headboard in the guest room, sharing popcorn while watching a movie on Cady’s laptop.

 

Once again, Cady is electrifyingly aware of the lack of space between her and Janis, and she’s so distracted by her efforts to act calm she forgets half the movie. She’s still jarred by the similarities in the film versus real life—head bitch in charge, antagonizes a high school, bosses around girls she calls her friends.

 

Except Regina George isn’t dead and Cady has no plans to poison her. Not yet, anyway.

 

“I think we’ve all learned a valuable lesson today,” Damian says as the credits begin to roll. “Be the Veronica Sawyer of your life.”

 

Janis snorts herself silly, falling against Cady, and Cady happily wraps her arms around Janis’s shoulders.

 

Janis checks her Tumblr on Cady’s computer while Damian is showering. Cady, never having used Tumblr before, is fascinated, and is strangely comfortable cuddling up to Janis’s side. Janis doesn’t seem to mind, not even when Cady rests her chin on her shoulder.

 

“It’s cool that you post your art,” Cady tells her supportively. “That’s brave.”

 

Janis shrugs, scrolling through the pages of her blog that contain uploads of her work. “Just the shitty ones or ones I don’t like. I keep the good stuff to myself. I don’t care if people take or repost these.” Cady thinks all of Janis’s art is good, though.

 

It gets quiet for a minute, and Janis turns on the bedside lamp before closing Cady’s computer and yawning. “Tired at this hour? I’m getting old.”

 

Cady laughs. “No, you’re not. Blame school. I’m getting sleepy, too. When’s your birthday, anyway?”

 

“November,” Janis replies, a tad halfheartedly, like she was afraid Cady would ask that. “The sixth. You?”

 

“January,” Cady says. “The thirtieth.” Which makes her wonder if Scorpios and Aquarius’ are even compatible. “Technically since it’s the seventh, your birthday is in a month and thirty something days from now.” She pokes Janis’s arm playfully.

 

Janis smiles, but she seems sad, so Cady shuts herself up. _Nice going, idiot._

 

Damian emerges from the bathroom then, towel around his waist and even on his head even though he doesn’t need one. He’s been blasting ABBA in the bathroom and is now singing _Waterloo_ into a hairbrush. Cady and Janis both laugh so hard they cry, and Damian waggles his fingers before disappearing again.

 

“I hate him so much,” Janis wheezes, swiping at her eyes. “I really fucking do.”

 

But she’s smiling because she’s happy now, and it’s a smile Cady prefers to see.

 

* * *

 

Janis showers next, leaving Cady alone with a squeaky-clean and apple-cheeked Damian, looking smug over his performance.

 

“I’m having fun, Caddy,” he tells her, and she ruffles his damp hair affectionately.

 

“Me too,” she says in earnest. “I haven’t had a sleepover in ages. I had friends back in California, but…I never felt close enough to them to do stuff like this. I always felt like the odd one out in my group. I know they cared about me, but not as much as they cared for each other. I wasn’t interesting or fun or cool enough.”

 

Damian pouts sympathetically and pats her thigh. “Except you are.”

 

“Thanks. I wasn’t to them.” Cady lets her ponytail down and fluffs out her hair. “Confession: I don’t really miss them. I thought I would, and they all seemed sad before I left. But only a few of them have texted to see how I’m settling in or how school’s going.”

 

“They’re rude,” Damian deadpans, and rolls his eyes. “Do yourself a favor and delete all their contacts. You’ll feel better, honey.”

 

“I’m sure I would,” Cady agrees in a murmur. “But I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I’d feel bad. What if they went to text me and I didn’t write back?”

 

“If it’s still one-sided, you don’t owe them anything,” Damian insists gently. “You’re probably not gonna see them again. So it’s not like you’re gonna bump into them. You’re allowed to move on and make new—and, ahem, better—friends.”

 

Cady nods. “I know. And I have. I love you guys.” He puts a hand under his chin and she taps his nose. “Anyway. Question: when’s your birthday?”

 

“July second,” he says, flipping imaginary hair. “Which makes Janis the oldest. I think. You?” She tells him. “Oh. Yeah. I’m still the youngest.”

 

“Little baby Damian,” Cady coos, squishing his face in his palms to make him laugh. She’s just as comfortable around Damian as she is with Janis, perhaps even more since she doesn’t have a rapidly growing crush on him. Damian is the nicest boy she’s ever met, and she thinks he’d still be nice even if he wasn’t gay. He has a pure heart. Cady is more sure about that than anything. She might be as protective of Janis as Damian is, but she’d kick anyone’s ass for him, too.

 

“Fun fact,” Damian says, sitting up, “my dad left a week after I was born.” Cady gasps in horror. “Yeah. And my mom was only eighteen. He fucked off to Tuscaloosa, I think she said. Neither of us have heard from him since and we don’t know what came of him.”

 

“How do you knock someone up then leave her _and_ your kid?” Cady whispers.

 

“I’d ask him if I could,” Damian sighs, tracing the pattern on his pajama bottoms. Cady takes his hand and he squeezes it.

 

“My dad can be your dad now,” she tells him, and he leans his head against hers. “He is awkward and dorky and knows too much about the reproductive cycles of animals, but he’s a good dad and I’m sure he’d be head over heels to have a son.”

 

“You’re amazing, Caddy,” Damian murmurs. “But I’ll need my adoption certificate by the end of the week, thank you.”

 

Cady punches him in the ribs and they wind up having a pillow fight. If this is what it’s like to have a snazzy gay brother, Cady wouldn’t trade him for anyone.

 

* * *

 

Cady’s parents have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it’s lights out by eleven. By some miracle, her dad produces a blow-up bed for Janis—it was in the garage, where Cady didn’t think to look. After it’s inflated on Cady’s bedroom floor, Damian rolls around on it, claiming he’s testing it out.

 

They have to be quiet, so they text in their group chat despite them all being in the same room. Eventually Damian decides to leave and get some shut eye, since they have plans for tomorrow, too. He kisses them both on the forehead and bids them goodnight. Janis inexplicably flips him off again while Cady waves innocently.

 

Cady tries to push down the disappointment when Janis slides off her bed to curl up on her own, first looking for her earbuds in her backpack. “Shit,” she mutters, evidently failing at finding them. Cady bites her lip, hesitating. Would it be weird to share hers?

 

“Um, mine are in that drawer,” she says, pointing to her desk. “I don’t mind if you wanna borrow them.”

 

“You sure? Thanks, Caddy.” Janis shoots her a sleepy smile then retrieves Cady’s earbuds.

 

Cady goes to say goodnight but the words die in her throat.

 

They both lie awake for a while longer, Janis presumably watching or listening to something as Cady quietly rewatches some of her favorite Vine compilations. It’s cozy and leisurely, waiting for her sleep meds to kick in, not to mention oddly comforting to have Janis so close by. Cady doesn’t have the energy to freak out about that. At least she isn’t sleeping _with_ Janis. Not _sleeping with_ sleeping with, obviously. Just. Sharing a bed with her crush is not on Cady’s bucket list.

 

Cady sends Janis a goodnight Snap, and she hears Janis huff a laugh. A moment later she replies with a peace sign selfie, and Cady cracks up into her pillow.

 

Facing the door, Cady sees the glow of Janis’s phone shut off, then hears her getting comfortable. Cady’s exhausted, and yet something about the atmosphere shifts, like a tangible feeling of displacement. Sleepovers probably aren’t new to Janis, but she’s still in someone else’s house.

 

Cady somehow senses the approach of a question prior to Janis whispering her name into the dark. She immediately props herself up on her elbow, peering down at Janis through the moonlight coming in through the window. “Yeah? Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” Janis says. “Just—um. God, I don’t know.” She drags her hands down her face.

 

“Do you feel sick or something?” Cady inquires softly.

 

“No, but—I just miss my bed,” Janis confesses. “And…I miss my dad. And my cat. And I hate Regina a lot.”

 

Somehow that explanation makes perfect sense. “Come up here with me,” Cady is suggesting without a second thought. “C’mon, bring your pillow.”

 

Janis doesn’t protest, which means that’s what she was hoping Cady would say.

 

Nothing else matters to Cady than helping Janis in any given situation, and now is no different despite her earlier panic over the idea of sharing a bed. Janis climbs under the covers and Cady rolls over to face her after she gets settled.

 

“Thanks, Caddy,” Janis whispers, and Cady grasps her hand so their fingers are entwined on their pillows.

 

“No problem,” Cady whispers back. She intends to let go of Janis’s hand, but Janis squeezes hers even as she drifts off to sleep first. Cady, a little shamefully, lies awake a minute or two longer, gazing at Janis’s face. Their feet and knees are touching under the covers.

 

Their hands are still linked as sleep reaches out to Cady and pulls her under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i gave janis and damian their actors’ birthdays. cady’s is actually a dear friend of mine’s!


	7. pt 1: ch 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is mostly fluff... with some angst at the end.
> 
>  **CH7 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  emotional abuse mention

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### seven

 

 

 

Waking up with Janis is not nearly as romantic or cuddly as Cady would’ve wanted it to be.

 

She’s on her stomach and Janis is on her back, arm across Cady’s shoulders and practically spread-eagle under the sheets. Cady wakes up slow, hair in her face, not really aware of anything just yet. As she blinks into the morning light, she sees Janis’s dark hair, her pale skin, the pink camisole top she wore to bed. Unwilling to jostle her awake by leaving the bed, Cady lays still for a bit longer, watching the rise and fall of Janis’s chest in a totally not-creepy way.

 

The room gets brighter, and since Janis is directly facing the light it doesn’t take much to rouse her. Cady pretends to be asleep as Janis wakes up, not wanting her to find out she was ogling like a total perv. (Janis’s collarbones are really nice, though.)

 

Cady hears the popping of joints and rustling of sheets when Janis rolls over towards her. She feels Janis looking at her and tries _very_ hard not to smile. Then Janis’s finger is stroking her nose from bridge to tip, and it tickles so Cady jerks her head away. Janis thinks it’s hilarious.

 

“Mornin’,” she giggles, and Cady grunts in acknowledgment, blushing behind her curls.

 

“How’d you sleep?” Cady asks around a yawn, combing her curls back.

 

“Good,” Janis responds lethargically, hugging her pillow. She bumps her foot to Cady’s. Something about it being in Cady’s bed makes it more intimate. “I always sleep like shit. My raccoon eyes aren’t makeup.” Cady snorts. “But I actually slept good for once.”

 

“I’m glad,” Cady sighs, unthinkingly taking Janis’s hand again. Janis rubs her thumb along Cady’s knuckles. Well, shit.

 

Cady knows Janis is a physically affectionate person, but hand-holding has always seemed so private and amorous to her. Janis doesn’t mean anything by it, but in Cady’s lovestruck brain she can’t help but get the flutters at Janis’s light touch.

 

Lovestruck might be a strong word. But at this point, Cady feels she’s well on her way to tumbling down a hole she won’t want to climb out of.

 

Since her parents are already gone, Damian starts blasting the _RENT_ soundtrack and busts the door open, giving the girls less than a second to let go. Damian cuts himself off mid-note when he realizes Janis is in Cady’s bed. The music on his phone is all that blares for several long, awkward seconds.

 

“Morning,” Janis and Cady chirp at the same time, and after making deliberate eye contact with both of them he begins belting again like nothing happened. He leaves, and sings even louder all the way down the stairs. Wilson barks in greeting at the bottom.

 

They can’t look at each other as they get out of bed. Cady’s afraid Janis will either be grinning or frowning. She isn’t sure which would be worse.

 

* * *

 

By noon, they’ve eaten more cereal than they can stomach and are waiting for Cady’s mom to come home from her morning shift so she can drive them to the mall. Cady is excited to spend time together in public outside of school for once.

 

Cady is flustered, again, by Janis’s outfit, a pretty, long-sleeved deep purple dress with knee-high socks. She braided her bangs off to the side. Cady tells her she loves it—Janis lifts a shoulder and blushes self-consciously. Honestly, Janis could wear anything and she’d look beautiful.

 

Cady doesn’t know what to make of it when Janis holds her hand in the car, so she takes Damian’s in case her mom sees them in the rearview mirror. She wishes she knew what to do with these fuzzy feelings of delight and terror when Janis touches her. It’s an innocent gesture on Janis’s part, but Cady’s heart leaps into overdrive. She loathes how quickly she fell down this rabbit hole called a crush. She didn’t know crushes could begin so goddamn _fast_. It makes her feel stupid, because the quicker the crush, the less authentic it is. Right? It’s just infatuation. Happiness to finally have a real friend.

 

That’s all it is. She also thinks Janis is the most gorgeous girl on earth. But, like, platonically. It has to be platonic. It’s a friend-crush.

 

Mrs. Heron drops them off at the mall, and the first thing Damian says is, “I want cookies. Let’s get cookies.”

 

“Ugh, Damian,” Janis groans, as she and Cady follow him through the entrance. “I had two and a half bowls of Cocoa Puffs.”

 

“I said _I_ wanted cookies,” Damian argues, miffed. “You don’t have to have any. Wasn’t planning on sharing, anyway.”

 

Cady giggles when Janis lunges at him playfully. They make their way through Nordstrom to the actual mall, stopping to take pictures with mannequins and make silly faces at the outrageous heels people wear nowadays. Damian says he could pull it off, and Cady doesn’t doubt that for a second.

 

Damian buys fresh-baked cookies and the girls wind up stealing some for themselves as they wander the mall. Janis doesn’t take Cady’s hand again, but stays close to her if they lose sight of Damian. Cady isn’t worried about being here without her mom or dad, but senses Janis is having a harder time venturing out of her comfort zone. That’s why they end up on a bench to finish the last of Damian’s cookies, avoiding the claustrophobia of being in a store, watching him try out a massage chair. Janis bounces her leg, but gradually relaxes now that she has more space to breathe.

 

“You have chocolate on your face,” she suddenly says bluntly, and licks her thumb to rub the evidence off Cady’s chin.

 

“Thanks,” Cady squeaks, trying not to melt. _Get it the fuck together, Heron,_ she tells herself, blushing.

 

After a bathroom break, they head to the upper level of the mall, where they seek out a map to find the best stores to visit. Janis does an adorable little dance upon proposing they go to Build-A-Bear, and it doesn’t take much to convince Damian after she reminds him they have rainbow bears now.

 

Cady hasn’t been in a Build-A-Bear since she was probably eight, but she understands her friends’ eagerness to see the “gay bears” for themselves when they walk in and spot the display. There’s a rainbow bear, a cat, and a unicorn, and Cady actually wants one.

 

“Get the cat,” Janis gasps gleefully. “Please. Do it. Caddy and Catty. Oh my God.”

 

She’s so excited at the prospect of Cady buying one solely for the pun, Cady gives in and picks out a non-stuffed cat. Damian gets the unicorn and Janis the bear. Which is funny because the bear and cat can apparently hold paws. _Okay, universe._

 

Cady’s phone will be out of storage by the end of the day thanks to all the pictures she’s taking, but she wants to document everything. From her friends stuffing their bears to Damian putting on hats meant for the toys, Cady can’t stop laughing at her camera roll. She never had this much fun with her old friends.

 

Damian names his unicorn George Michael, Cady obviously dubs her cat Catty, and Janis calls her bear Berry (so it’ll match Cady’s). They leave the store carrying Build-A-Bear boxes for the first time since they were all kids, and Cady isn’t even embarrassed about it. She’s mostly flustered that Janis wanted their bears to match; she feels like she woke up in some alternate timeline where Janis likes her back.

 

Which is probably the timeline where they still couldn’t be together. Because Cady doesn’t have the guts to come out to her.

 

Since it’s Saturday afternoon at the mall, perhaps Cady should’ve been prepared for the possibility of seeing Regina. She is not, in fact, prepared.

 

“Gah,” Janis yelps suddenly, cutting Damian off while he’s talking. Cady immediately sees what the problem is: the Plastics are exiting Bath & Body Works several stores down, thankfully not having seen them yet. Cady grabs Janis’s arm protectively and the three of them hightail it out of their sight. They find a hiding place in a bookstore, and Janis sinks onto a circular plush seat to catch her breath. So much for having a Plastic-free day.

 

“Shit,” Cady whispers, hand over her heart. She looks from Janis to Damian, who’s watching the entrance in case the Plastics come in. Cady can’t see why they would. Like any of them don’t have better things to do than look at books. They’re safe.

 

“Those _bitches_ ,” Janis mutters, getting to her feet. Cady puts a hand on her elbow automatically, but her face is pissed, not scared. “One day. One freaking day, we couldn’t have one freaking day without having to see their stupid faces. Ugh.” She shudders, starting to look peaky. “They ruin everything.”

 

“Today isn’t ruined,” Cady assures. “We’ll just…” She doesn’t know what they’ll do, now that she’s thinking about it. Janis gives her a sad look, and Cady understands. They should leave unless they actually want to bump into the Plastics. “We’ll go do something else, then.”

 

Sighing, Janis slips her hand into Cady’s after Cady texts her mom asking if she is still available to pick them up. She expects some nervous reply, since Cady told her they would be out until her dad could retrieve them on his way home from work at five.

 

Sure enough, her mom demands to know what’s wrong. Cady wishes she could be honest, because there’s genuinely a problem here, but quickly tells her Janis isn’t feeling well and wants to go back to the Herons’ house. Mrs. Heron is at work, but Cady pleads with her not to leave; they can get an Uber or something. Naturally, Mrs. Heron isn’t okay with that idea, and Cady’s attempts at reassuring her by saying Damian is with them fall flat. Janis is actually more likely to punch creepers in the face, but it was worth a shot. Ultimately Mrs. Heron convinces Cady to let her come get them, Cady being the one to feel bad about her leaving work.

 

The next step is sneaking out of the mall without attracting the Plastics. They slip out of the bookstore and hurry back towards Nordstrom, Janis gripping Cady’s hand the entire time. Cady is less frightened, feeling sorry for Janis that she has to deal with this shit, that she can’t go to the mall without Regina and her drones being there to mess up a perfectly good day. Janis is truly brave going to school every day, but she shouldn’t have to be brave outside of it. Regina’s hold on her hasn’t let up since March. Janis is just as affected by Regina now as she was before. It disturbs Cady to no end.

 

 _If only,_ Cady thinks sullenly as they wait for her mom on the curb. _If only we could get rid of Regina together._

 

* * *

 

Janis sips ginger ale on Cady’s bed, Berry and Wilson tucked against her sides, Wilson’s head in her lap. Mrs. Heron made sure they had what they needed before heading back to work; she implored Janis to call her dad if she felt any worse, wanting her to be in her own bed if she’s sick.

 

“Feeling better?” Cady asks, trying to be cheerful, flopping down beside her.

 

“Yeah,” Janis murmurs, scratching Wilson’s head. “Sorry about all that.”

 

Cady shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. We didn’t wanna deal with them, either.”

 

Spinning in Cady’s desk chair, Damian adds cynically, “Not today Satan.”

 

That coaxes a laugh out of Janis, and Cady smiles, sitting up. “We can still have fun. We could watch something. Or we can take Sonny for another walk. Or draw plans for a rocket ship that will launch Regina into the sun where she fucking belongs.”

 

Janis chokes on her ginger ale. “That would be a beautiful thing to see, Caddy,” she agrees, giggling.

 

Damian takes it upon himself to dig through Janis’s backpack to retrieve her drawing pad and pencils. He hands them to her with all seriousness and says, “Draw the ugliest rocket ship the world has ever seen. Regina deserves nothing less.”

 

Visibly feeling more like herself again, Janis puts her drink down to take her things with a grin. “You got it, Captain,” she says, flipping to a new page. Cady’s heart stops as she catches a glimpse of a sketch before it disappears—it almost looked like her. A half-finished black-and-white drawing of a girl with curly hair.

 

Janis is oblivious to the fact Cady noticed. Cady tries to play it cool as she watches Janis begin to sketch, but her pulse is racing. Why would Janis draw her? Inspiration can come from anywhere and it doesn’t have to mean anything, but still. Janis drew her. It’s not even done yet.

 

Janis completes her sketch in ten minutes, and presents it to them smugly. Damian falls over laughing. It quite literally is the strangest-looking rocket ship, falling to pieces, rusted and misshapen, with Regina’s comically large, screaming head in the window, her hair singed from whatever fire is burning on the inside as she blasts off.

 

“Oh my God,” Damian wheezes, eyes streaming, “please. Let’s make copies and frame it.”

 

Janis laughs, and looks proud of her work. She signs her name and the date at the bottom, then shows it to Wilson. “What do you think, buddy?” she asks him, and he wags his tail supportively. “Yeah. This girl’s a bitch. We don’t like her. She’s evil.”

 

“I feel bad for the George’s dog,” Damian sighs, flopping back onto the chair. Looking at Cady, he clarifies, “Apparently Regina’s mom spritzes perfume on him and dresses him up and takes him everywhere with her. She thinks they’re Elle Woods and Bruiser.” He rolls his eyes, offended.

 

Cady snickers. “We should call the ASPCA on her or something.”

 

Janis laughs heartily, finding that ironically funny. “I’ve tried, Caddy.”

 

Damian shakes his head solemnly. “The Georges are invincible, my dear. There’s no toppling them.”

 

Cady won’t argue, but she doesn’t think that’s true. Every hierarchy has a weakness. She’ll uncover Regina’s, one way or another. Somebody has to.

 

* * *

 

By the time Mr. Heron gets home, they are on the couch binging a show. Cady goes to greet her father with a hug and ask how his day was. He resigns himself to his office, so he won’t “cramp anybody’s style,” and Cady returns to her friends with the candy he was generous enough to bring home for them.

 

“Your dad is chill, Caddy,” Janis comments, tearing open a bag of Swedish Fish.

 

“I _love_ him,” Damian gushes, hugging his Sour Patch Kids. “I’m so lucky he’s my dad now. Thanks, sis.”

 

Cady hums, settling back in between her friends. “You’re welcome, bro.”

 

And so they eat their candy and watch _The Office_ in silence, Janis gradually scooting closer to Cady so their arms are touching, and Cady puts her head on Janis’s shoulder without a single shit to give. Why the hell not. Janis has comfortable shoulders.

 

Janis nods off, probably crashing after all the sugar she’s consumed today, and Cady stays very still. To her right, Damian falls asleep too, and she isn’t annoyed with them like she would be if they were any of her old friends. She used to try so hard to impress people and was always let down when her own expectations failed her. But Damian and Janis are different—there are no expectations or standards with them, and Cady isn’t the least bit offended they want to nap. They aren’t bored of _her_.

 

Nobody’s self-worth is determined by what anyone, not even their friends, think of them. It’s a lesson Cady is gradually learning.

 

She turns off the TV so it’s quiet and opens her phone to look through all the pictures she took today. She’s taken more pictures with these two than she did in the years she knew her old friends. Everything is so amplified and fun and free when she’s with Janis and Damian. Like she could be whoever (except a Plastic) and they’d accept her. It’s a wonderful feeling, realizing they’re just as lost and weird and quirky as she is. They all stand out, so they stick together.

 

Smiling, Cady favorites the group selfie they took in front of a fountain at the mall, and decides to upload it to Instagram. Perhaps it’s petty, but she wants her other friends, all the fake ones and the ones who’ve probably forgotten about her by now, to see what kind of fun she’s having in Chicago. She always had difficulty connecting with other people as deeply as she’s bonded with them in such a surprisingly short period of time—only it’s not surprising at all when you remember how suffocating her mother is and how much pressure she’s constantly under to do her best. Janis and Damian don’t seem to expect anything of her but her friendship and honesty. They just want Cady and whoever she wakes up being on that given day. There’s unspoken acceptance.

 

Cady remembers Regina’s strange offer and rolls her eyes. As if she could ever truly betray her friends and go to the dark side. She might like validation and praise, but it’s not such a strong wish that she’d be willing to lose people who truly like her over it. Regina’s not as seductive and powerful as she thinks she is, and maybe that’s the weak link instead of Aaron. What Regina _thinks_ she is capable of and what she actually can do are two different things. Sure, the whole school might be under her spell, but there are three people who won’t put up with her shit, one in particular who wants her to know how spineless she really is.

 

Tearing people down, trashing their looks, abusing them verbally and emotionally, betraying someone you once called your best friend… All traits of a tyrannical leader who needs to be knocked down a peg and whose face be shoved into the reality of the situation she’s caused. For Janis, and for anybody who’s suffered because of Regina. So it isn’t necessarily an unwise idea, hijacking the castle and kicking out the queen. Janis’s point is that it’d simply be dangerous, and pointless if Cady fails. But it isn’t childish or trivial the way she might fear it is—not if there’s a positive outcome.

 

Cady wants to at least _try_ , so very badly. She truly believes in her heart there’s something she can do, something she can prove that would get Regina expelled. There has to be a way to do it without involving or threatening Janis or Damian; other people she could talk to who probably have stories that could implicate Regina. Janis can’t be the only freaking person who’s been sabotaged by Regina. It’d be naïve to think Janis is utterly alone.

 

Cady comes back to herself, having become lost in thought while staring at a candid she took of Janis on that bench at the mall. The living room is getter darker, the setting sun glowing brilliant orange past the windows. Cady finds Janis’s hand and takes it quietly, looking at the sunset thoughtfully, Damian snoring beside her.

 

* * *

 

Damian’s mom picks him up at eight o’clock, just because she’s had enough of not seeing her son all day and wants him home. Janis has another hour until her dad swings by to take her home, so the shenanigans continue in the form of the group chat.

 

“Aw, you posted that picture,” Janis says bemusedly as they’re lying on Cady’s bed, blow-up deflated and her things packed.

 

“Yeah. Is that okay?” Again with being impulsive. _Dammit, Heron._

 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Janis assures her, tapping her screen to like it. “I don’t look terrible for once. Amazing.”

 

“Shush, you never look terrible,” Cady protests, slapping Janis’s thigh. There’s a pause, then she adds softly, “I had a lot of fun today.”

 

Janis grins at her. “Me too. I haven’t…I mean, I do stuff with Damian all the time, but I haven’t had a…gal pal,” she snorts, “in so long. It was nice to just…hang out and not be afraid you were gonna make fun of my outfit or my hair or…say it was dumb that I wanted a Build-A-Bear.”

 

“Our Build-A-Bears are _cute_ ,” Cady says affectionately, handing Berry to Janis and putting her phone down to hug Catty. “I haven’t gotten one in years.”

 

Janis is contemplative for a minute as she strokes Berry’s eyes and nose. “Regina thought they were babyish,” she murmurs pensively. “And so I had to agree with her, like I did on everything. There’s so much of my life that I want back from her. I wish I could’ve worn what I wanted outside of school instead of trying so hard to please someone who never truly cared about me anyway. She just liked how submissive I was.”

 

“That isn’t your fault,” Cady soothes, hand on Janis’s wrist. “She took advantage of you, Janis. She used you to make herself look better.”

 

Janis shrugs, looking like she’s fighting back tears. “I know,” she replies thickly. “And I knew that at the time, I just…I should’ve fought back. Told someone. I didn’t like who she was becoming, but I let it happen anyway, because I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t support her. But then she turned around and…” She lets out a shaky, pained breath. “Well, you know. She proved my friendship didn’t mean anything to her regardless. So it was a huge fucking waste of time.”

 

Rolling on her side, Cady rests her chin on Catty’s head. “Still not your fault. She made her own choices.”

 

“And I enabled them,” Janis responds insistently, like Cady isn’t seeing the big picture.

 

“Because she made you,” Cady argues gently. “She manipulated you into being okay with what she was doing—”

 

“And I still couldn’t find the nerve to speak up,” Janis nearly shouts, and she’s crying now, but quickly hides it by sitting up and swiping her tears away. “I let myself be talked down to and shoved around. I knew she was becoming a bad person, but I let my fear of her snuff out any rational thought.”

 

“And that’s _her doing_ ,” Cady counters, on her knees next to Janis. “She made you afraid of her. She did that. She instilled that fear. She made you think she could ruin your life if you stood up for yourself or the people around you. But that doesn’t make you weak, Janis. There’s a difference between vulnerability and weakness.”

 

Janis swallows hard. “There was no difference when it came to me.”

 

She says it in a whisper, but it’s so final it shuts Cady up. She hugs Janis, comforting her wordlessly, and Janis allows herself to shed some tears.

 

Even months after she fucked up Janis’s life, Regina still has the ability to make this girl cry. But Janis can’t be the only one. There’s other victims, more people who are too scared to come forward. Cady will find them, and their voices combined will silence Regina’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: janis + end of part one. can’t believe we’re almost there.


	8. pt 1: ch 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> janis again! this is the end of part one. eeeek.
> 
>  **CH8 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  sex mention  
> harassment

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### eight

 

 

 

Janis doesn’t know where she gets the sudden burst of courage from, but she holds Cady’s hand multiple times throughout the day.

 

She holds hands with Damian sometimes, but she hasn’t with a girl since Regina.

 

She hasn’t felt anything for a girl since Regina. And after Regina ruined everything, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to again.

 

And now there’s her—this bright, vivacious, adorable, curly-haired little monster who has taken it upon herself to weave her way into Janis’s caged heart. Which is just plain unfair to Janis, because there’s no way she could get lucky enough for Cady to not be straight.

 

As if they’d still have a shot, anyway. Janis can’t flirt to save her life.

 

She can merely spill her guts to the person she likes only for them to leave her bleeding and dying on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

 

She still holds Cady’s hand, though. Because being in public without her dad makes her nervous. Perhaps it’s ironic, though, to be seen holding hands with another girl.

 

Janis is aware it might be silly for a group of sixteen-year-olds to buy Build-A-Bears, but she doesn’t treat herself very often and the fact the rainbow bear and cat can “hold paws” is irresistibly cute. Perhaps it’s a sign of some sort. Perhaps. Not really.

 

Cady is the one who grabs her when they spot the Plastics, and she’s more than grateful because seeing Regina outside of school always roots Janis to the spot. This time she managed to get away before Regina saw her—otherwise someone probably would’ve ended up getting stabbed or something.

 

Janis rides the waves of guilt during the drive back to Cady’s house. She feels like their fun day was cut short because of her, and not Regina. She knows it was best not to tempt fate and make things potentially worse by sticking around, but still. Everything always seems to be Janis’s fault, no matter what it is. People’s actions and choices fall back on her somehow, in some way, and she takes the blame for it.

 

She especially blames herself for what Regina did to her. She was stupid enough to think Regina could keep her mouth shut, that Regina had an ounce of respect for Janis and that part of who she is. Regina outed her because she told Regina she’s gay. And Janis hates herself for it.

 

Drawing Regina in a crappy rocket ship is the most delightful part of Janis’s day, and her friends’ humored reactions lift her spirits a bit. But she doesn’t like the shadow that darkens Cady’s face when Damian reminds her the Georges are indestructible. Regina used to get that look whenever someone dared to tell her she couldn’t do something that she genuinely shouldn’t do (but always did anyway, because she knew she would get away with it). Janis hates looking at Cady and being reminded of Regina. It is not a frequent feeling, but moments like that frighten Janis to her very core.

 

She pushes down the idea that maybe, just maybe, the reason she likes Cady so much is that beneath her sweet, spunky exterior, there’s a lioness waiting to rear her head and pounce. Cady might be aiming to attack Regina, but to Janis that’s worse than an innocent person. Once she starts, she won’t be able to stop. Bloodthirsty teenage girls are a force to be reckoned with, and Janis doesn’t want to watch her new friend become what she’s so determined to destroy.

 

Janis doesn’t think she could handle that. Not again.

 

* * *

 

As much as she loves Cady, Janis is relieved when her dad picks her up. She pulls her knees up on the passenger’s seat and turns on his music, the CD of Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits he burned years ago. Berry is literally buckled up in the backseat per Cady’s suggestion.

 

“So,” her dad says, waiting to turn left. “How was it? You have a good time?”

 

Janis nods. “Yup. We had a lot of fun. I missed you, though.”

 

He seems touched but tries not to show it too much because that’d be awkward. “I missed you, too,” he says, leaning over to kiss her hair.

 

They don’t talk much for the rest of the drive. Janis lets Sinatra’s voice serenade her as her day replays in her head.

 

Cady was absolutely right when she said Regina manipulated Janis and coerced her into going along with her bullshit. Janis knows that’s true. But she can’t stop taking the blame for it. Regina sure as shit isn’t going to, so somebody has to. Even if nothing comes of Janis’s remorse, at least someone is feeling it.

 

Regina has had true control since they were thirteen. So it’s a lot of guilt to bear.

 

Later, after her shower, Janis kneels in front of the toilet, hair dripping down her neck, body wrapped in a towel. She doesn’t want this to become a thing—maybe just once in a while, she has to do this as an outlet for purging those bad feelings. The memories. The shame.

 

God, there’s so much fucking shame. For every single thing.

 

She quickly stands to turn the fan on to muffle the sound, then holds her wet hair back, salty tears mixing with the droplets on her cheeks.

 

It doesn’t make her feel much better. It never really does.

 

* * *

 

Janis sleeps in til one the next afternoon. It’s Sunday, easily the best day of the week, because it goes by so slowly compared to Saturday. Janis lies awake for another hour with Ollie snoozing at her feet, Berry watching from her desk chair. Janis ignores her phone as it dings and buzzes in her nightstand drawer.

 

It’s her dad’s day off, so she knows she should get up and spend time with him. But the guilt is eating her raw, every inch of her body filled with frustration and sadness. She can’t do much about it but let herself feel it. She doesn’t want to throw up again.

 

Janis isn’t at all surprised when she hears the basement door open, the brief chat Damian has with her father, then the thud of his footsteps on the stairs. She buries herself under her blankets, hiding for as long as she can. She adores him, she really does, but she likes her alone time.

 

He stands by her bed with his hands on hips for a solid minute and a half before speaking. “Miss Janis Bethany Sarkisian,” he huffs, and she rolls her eyes even though he can’t see. “It is two o’clock in the afternoon. On a _Sunday_. Jesus is disappointed.”

 

“Trust me, buddy, Jesus has other things to be disappointed in me about,” Janis deadpans lethargically.

 

“That doesn’t sound like a real sentence,” Damian sniffs, then toes off his shoes and makes himself comfortable beside her. Ollie hisses and hops off.

 

There’s another minute of quiet, then he says, “So. Yesterday was fun.”

 

“Yeah. Ten outta ten. Totes would do again.” Janis isn’t in the mood for small talk.

 

He rolls on his side and pokes her arm over her bedspread. “Hey. Come over to my house later so we can watch Drag Race. Or the _Book of Mormon_ bootleg I found.”

 

Janis snorts, finally emerging from her burrow. “Doesn’t the government track our browsing history? You’ll get arrested.”

 

Damian puts a hand under his chin and bats his eyelashes. “Darling, I’m too pretty for jail,” he coos, and she smacks him across the face with a pillow. But Janis is laughing and it’s not _actually_ such a terrible proposition. They haven’t watched Drag Race since the night before school started.

 

It takes thirty minutes for Janis to haul her ass out of bed, eat a late breakfast, and put clothes on, but she does it and Damian looks proud of her. They walk to Damian’s, a good opportunity to take more stupid pictures and pose with every stop sign they see. (A lame, indescribable inside joke.) They don’t send Snaps to Cady, though, since it’d possibly make her feel left out if she knew they were having fun without her.

 

Again, Janis loves Cady, but she’s spent every day since the first day of school with her, so it’s nice to have Damian all to herself again.

 

It feels normal, sitting on Damian’s unmade bed with a bowl of chips between them, watching the musical on his laptop. At least, it should feel normal, but it borderline isn’t. It’s like there’s a gaping hole in the fabric of reality where Cady should be. They have become such a tight-knit group in less than a week that her absence is more palpable than her presence. At least it is to Janis. Which confuses her. Because she’s not in love with her or anything.

 

It’s been five days, but it feels like five years. Cady has stuck up for Janis and protected her like they’ve known each other since they were kids. Aside from Damian, nobody has treated her like that before. Like she’s worth so much, time is meaningless to them. Like they were always meant to be her best friends.

 

Janis was in love once. Well, she thought she was. She was in love with the idea of being in love with that person. And then that person crushed her heart and fed her to the wolves. To this day Janis isn’t sure what to make of her feelings for Regina—feelings that have long since disintegrated, but were there nonetheless. For six years Janis was an unknowing victim of Regina’s subtle tactics, her need for praise and attention being fueled by her friend. Regina knew that from the beginning and Janis never questioned if it was being used against her. As a kid, she believed Regina cared, and liked making her happy. She liked the power Regina exuded, even as a ten-year-old, drawn to the beast inside her because she thought she could tame it. Could be good for Regina. Be her best friend in the whole entire universe until the day they died. They’d be old and sitting in rocking chairs at the rest home, watching their grandkids, reminiscing.

 

Janis doesn’t like admitting to herself that Regina was the reason why she realized she’s gay. Her infatuation with Regina wasn’t solely about what Regina would give back to her; even as a child she thought Regina was the prettiest girl in school. She always made excuses to braid Regina’s blonde locks or be close to her. Her belly would flip-flop all over the place when Regina smiled at or complimented her. She shaped herself around Regina to impress her and perform how Regina expected, falling in love with the idea of what more Regina could give her if they had a chance.

 

Despite all that, Janis never felt less attracted to Regina than she did that night she came out to her. Not that Regina’s reaction was disapproving. But it isn’t something Janis likes to dwell on, too mortified to remember. For her own sanity, she keeps it locked up tight.

 

She got too close to the snake and Regina showed her fangs. But she was the prettiest python Janis had ever seen, and so she let herself get bitten. Now the poison is still in her veins, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Nothing but remember the sting of betrayal.

 

* * *

 

Janis watches _Heathers_ again that night by herself, hoping it didn’t give Cady too many wild ideas. Faking someone’s suicide is easy if you’re Winona Ryder and flanked by Christian Slater in a trench coat. Honestly, Janis was in the same boat with Regina, except all they killed was people’s self-esteem.

 

Janis tosses and turns in bed for hours, ultimately exhausting herself around four in the morning, giving her less than three hours to sleep. She doesn’t feel like she slept at all by the time she has to get up, and stares at her bedsheets for a long, delirious moment, wondering if she could pull it off.

 

But she has to go to school and she won’t traumatize her father before eight AM.

 

He drives her to school today on his way to work. “Have a great day, hon.”

 

“Thanks. You, too.” She pecks him on the cheek then climbs out of his car, waving as he drives off. She sinks onto the bench to wait for her friends, wishing she was in that rocket ship she drew and launching herself into the sun so she wouldn’t have to be here.

 

The only good parts about school are her friends and art class. She’s smart and gets good grades but only because she has high expectations for herself and won’t allow a slip in her intelligence for even one subject. She guesses art school is where she’ll end up, but you never know. She could become a part-time professor like Cady’s dad, or one of those busty car salesladies you see in local dealership ads.

 

Janis laughs at that absurd mental picture. She’s glad she escaped Regina before being convinced to get implants.

 

“What’re you laughing at, Sarkisian?” somebody is sneering, and Janis chokes in surprise.

 

“Nothing,” she says to the petite, short-haired girl Damian has aptly dubbed Danny Devito. Janis is pretty sure her real name is Sonja.

 

Sonja nods to Mrs. George’s approaching car. “You better get inside before they see you,” she advises, then walks away. Janis sits for a second longer, confused. People don’t just randomly talk to her. Sonja’s tone wasn’t suggestive of any new gossip about Janis, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, so Janis heads up the steps and into the school. Heart pounding, she keeps her head down, her anxiety skyrocketing as the minutes pass.

 

She relaxes significantly when Cady and Damian enter homeroom. Cady smiles and waves and hurries to come see her.

 

“Hi,” she says, flopping into her seat behind Janis. “I missed you.”

 

Sitting backwards in her chair, Janis rests her chin on her hands. “I missed you, too.”

 

Cady’s grin fades when she sees whatever look is plastered on Janis’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asks, dropping her voice.

 

Janis glances around them nervously, then back to her. “Have you heard anything about me?” she whispers. “Like, has anyone mentioned me in the hall?”

 

“What? No,” Cady answers, perplexed. “No, I haven’t heard anything. Why?”

 

“Cause—” Janis bites her tongue, hesitating. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. This girl warned me that the Plastics were almost here and then left, so I wasn’t sure if something had happened that Regina would get mad at me about…” She trails off, feeling like an idiot.

 

“Oh,” Cady replies quietly. “Well, you didn’t do anything. She didn’t even see us at the mall yesterday.”

 

Janis chews her lip, unsure about that. She has a bad feeling.

 

Combined with her lack of sleep, Janis’s paranoia is at an all-time high today, making it hard to focus during class. She forgot to take her meds this morning—go figure. But she does her best to keep it together, blessedly avoiding any false accusations by nosy peers who think they’re separate from her.

 

She can’t eat lunch, too anxious to consume anything. She jostles her leg under the table, listening to her friends chatter.

 

People are definitely staring. And they’re definitely snickering. _Shit._

 

It all comes to a head when the kid at the table next to theirs leans closer to jeer at Janis, “Sarkisian. Hey.”

 

Janis jumps, looking at him with wide eyes. She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

 

He smirks, and she tenses automatically. “Little birdie told us you have a new toy,” he hisses, and now Cady and Damian are watching, frozen where they sit.

 

“Excuse me?” Janis mumbles, already guessing where this is going. _Regina, you sneaky cunt._

 

“Yeah,” the boy continues. “The Plastics saw you leaving a sex toy store yesterday.”

 

Cady’s slamming her palms on the table and standing up in a rage before he’s even finished talking. “Okay, listen up—” she starts to holler, but Damian quickly grabs her as she’s going to lunge at the other group, fists all but beginning to fly.

 

“That’s not true,” Janis insists, but her voice is unconvincingly hollow. It isn’t true, but again, she can’t prove it.

 

“Gretchen Wieners said it was a two-in-one type thing,” another kid pipes up, laughing. “Y’know, a vibrator and a dildo, both at the same time.”

 

Cady screeches in disgust and thrashes in Damian’s grip. Janis stands up on wobbly legs, feeling lighter than air. “That isn’t true,” she says again, even though it’s pointless. Nobody cares if it’s true or not. They just want a reason to pick on her. Evidence means nothing to them.

 

“I thought lesbians didn’t like dick,” some genius shouts across the cafeteria.

 

“Nobody’s gonna fuck her so she has to do it herself,” another voice chimes in helpfully.

 

Everybody is laughing. Janis wonders where the fucking adults are. But of course there aren’t any around when it matters. But even if they were, the chances of them siding with Janis are slim. They’d laugh, then escort her out to calm everyone _else_ down.

 

And then there’s Regina in the middle of it all, steely eyes focused on Janis as she eats a salad. She waggles her fork at Janis.

 

How dumb to think they could escape the Plastics for even a day.

 

Janis rushes out of the cafeteria, Cady and Damian right at her heels. Sound roars in her ears and she wishes she were dead. She wishes someone would just kill her. How is irrelevant, she just wants to die so bad. Maybe in death she’ll find peace.

 

Attempting to drown herself in the bathroom sink is an appealing idea, except Cady and Damian follow her in there before she can try. They don’t touch or approach her; it’s weird, being given space but knowing they’d be there if she started banging her head on the marble or something.

 

She breathes heavy and deep around sobs, unaware she was crying until now. She doesn’t know why she lets it affect her so much if she knows it’s coming.

 

Crying so hard she can barely see, Janis hides her face in her hands and weeps. Cady comes up behind her and silently rests her head between Janis’s shoulders, a quiet but reassuring gesture, arms around Janis’s waist. Damian hangs back, guarding the door.

 

Janis has never hated being a lesbian more than she does right now. And that’s probably the worst part.

 

* * *

 

“Ugh, God. Janis. Why are you wearing that shirt with those socks?”

 

Janis looked down at her outfit self-consciously. “I thought you said turquoise would look good with dark green.”

 

“Ew. No. When did I say that?” Regina wrinkled her nose at Janis’s attire.

 

“Why are you wearing socks, anyway?” Gretchen piped up, sprawled on Regina’s bed. “It’s April.”

 

Janis flattened her newly dyed hair as if that would distract them from her disastrous clothing choices. “I dunno. My legs were cold, sorry.”

 

“Yuck. Go change,” Regina ordered her, shooing her towards her closet. “Pick out whatever you want.”

 

Janis wordlessly dumped her backpack by Regina’s bed and disappeared into her massive closet. It was the size of a small apartment, with a huge three-way mirror. Janis, who still struggled with being fashion-oriented, took her time finding the right pieces so Regina wouldn’t chew her out again. Her cheeks prickled with embarrassment.

 

“You’re taking forever, just pick something,” Regina whined impatiently.

 

Janis quickly donned a magenta sundress with white sandals to show off her sparkly toenails, then gathered her clothes and left the closet. Regina clapped her approval as Janis spun around per her request. “Much better,” she crooned, beaming.

 

Janis glowed, folding her previous outfit and stuffing it in her backpack so nobody would have to look at its ugliness.

 

“Come here, lemme do your hair, too,” Regina said, taking Janis’s hand and pulling her over to the vanity. Janis’s heart fluttered at the warm press of Regina’s perfect palm in hers. They held hands all the time, but moments where they didn’t have to made Janis feel fuzzy and loved.

 

Regina and Gretchen gossiped as Regina brushed and straightened Janis’s platinum waves. Goosebumps rose on Janis’s neck whenever Regina’s fingers grazed her skin or her nails combed over Janis’s skull. At thirteen, Janis hadn’t yet figured out what any of those reactions meant, but she knew most girls weren’t smitten with their best girl friends. So she tried to push it all down so she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

 

“Voila,” Regina chirped, turning off the straightener and smiling at Janis’s reflection in the mirror. Janis looked at Regina looking at her—admiring each other. Janis vaguely wondered if Regina ever got the flutters whenever she saw Janis. Probably not, but it comforted Janis to think maybe she wasn’t alone.

 

Regina kissed the top of Janis’s head. “Mwah. You look pretty. Okay, ladies, get your stuff, the movie’s at five.”

 

Janis stayed seated for a second longer, trying to catch her breath from a kiss that meant the same as a little girl kissing the head of her Barbie doll: affectionate at the time but with the love of someone who’s ultimately going to outgrow her toy.


	9. pt 2: ch 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part freaking two already. damn. time goes by so fast. buckle up kiddos.
> 
> **CH9 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  alcohol mention  
> neglect mention  
> suicide mention  
> emotional trauma

 

 

#  **PART TWO: OCTOBER**

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### nine

 

 

 

Cady feels like she blinked, and suddenly Halloween is nine freaking days away. Wasn’t school just starting yesterday?

 

The trees are golden-brown and the air is significantly cooler than last month. Cady hugs herself as she treks to school, in a hurry because she’s eager to find out what “fun news” Damian has to share. He sent a cryptic text this morning and wouldn’t give any hints.

 

Janis waves to her as she approaches, and she’s happy to see her friend is beaming. “Morning,” Cady greets, already absorbing Janis’s rare positive energy.

 

“Hi, hi,” Janis says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Okay, guess what.”

 

“And you have to guess,” Damian insists seriously.

 

“Ummm.” Cady taps her chin, thinking hard. “I don’t know. You…finally figured out what you wanna be for Halloween?”

 

“No,” Janis negates, shaking her head but not looking any less excited.

 

“Ahh, I don’t know! Just tell me or we’ll be here all day,” Cady pushes.

 

Janis’s grin only seems to get wider as she announces, “So, um, my art got accepted into the winter art show.”

 

Cady gasps in delight. “Janis!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around her friend. “Oh, Janis! That’s amazing! That’s amazing, you deserve it so much. I love that painting. Wait, is it the one of Ollie?” Janis nods. “Oh, good, that one is my favorite. Yaaay!”

 

Janis hugs her tightly as Damian claps. “Thank you. I’m really excited,” she admits, calming down as she pulls back. She lets out a nervous breath and scrunches her nose. “I’ve never been to an art show before. I mean, I’ve done science fairs at school and stuff, but… This is, like, a big deal. It’s downtown and all.”

 

Cady grips her arm as they make their way up the steps. “I’m so happy for you,” she reiterates. “Really, I am. When’s the show?”

 

“December fifteenth,” Janis says, still smiling. She’s holding Damian’s hand, connecting all three of them.

 

“We’ll be there,” Cady promises instantly, and Janis glows a bit brighter.

 

Janis’s cat is getting old and she wanted to paint him doing what he loves most: sleeping on her bed, to keep his memory alive after he passes. She submitted it to the local art museum for review to be included as a display at the show, and now they’ve accepted it. It took about a month to paint, which Cady thinks is impressive given how much detail went into it. She’d stay after school to watch Janis paint, and sometimes they’d head down to the school’s theater after to watch Damian with his group.

 

As far as how things with the Plastics are going, nothing worse than the most recent cafeteria fiasco has occurred. Regina and Gretchen still give them weird looks and talk shit about them under their breath. Karen always seems uncomfortably out of the loop.

 

People won’t stop bringing up the sex toy rumor, but Janis has convinced Cady and Damian to tune it out, because there’s no point in arguing. Cady knows it bothers Janis but respects her wishes, with great effort. She’s taken up writing her vengeful thoughts about Regina in a journal, surprised how much it helps ease the invisible load on her shoulders to act on them. Her parents have begun picking up on her post-school moods, sensing when something pissed her off; the amount of times Cady’s had to assure her mother she isn’t getting bullied is limitless. As for Mrs. Heron, she grades Cady’s homework herself before Cady turns it in the next day, which Cady feels is a borderline cheat but won’t admit it out loud. Naturally, her dad doesn’t say anything against it, and he’s the actual professor.

 

That’s the thing about Cady’s mom. Cady isn’t the only one who’s sort of petrified of her.

 

They had a mini spat this morning at breakfast because Cady said she wanted to go to a haunted house with her friends this weekend. Mrs. Heron freaked out, thinking it’d be dangerous and Cady would have nightmares for a week. Cady reminded her mother she isn’t ten anymore, which only upset Mrs. Heron even more. She retreated to her room and Cady left without a goodbye. Now that the adrenaline rush to find out what Janis’s news was is fading, Cady’s heart sinks as she remembers the argument. She’s still determined to have fun with her friends, but is irritated with her mom.

 

Janis asks her about it during break, because she’s been uncharacteristically quiet and lost in thought. “Oh,” she says, shrugging. “Just…my mom. We got in a fight earlier. It’s dumb.” She’s itching to vent, but feels bad dumping it on her friends. However, their concerned expressions coax her into talking.

 

“That’s weird,” Janis ultimately says, brow furrowed. “She just went upstairs before you could talk it out?”

 

“Yeah,” Cady confirms, befuddled all over again. “She’s so fucking dramatic. I love her but she takes everything so goddamn personally and it’s exhausting. And she babies me so much! I have to beg her to let me stay out late if I’m with you guys _on the weekends_. She grades my homework before I take it back to school. Plus she’s always, like, making me doubt myself and how smart I am because no matter how good I do, she expects more.”

 

She sighs, running her hands through her hair. “Drives me crazy,” she mutters, folding her arms and looking out at the courtyard so her friends won’t see her tearing up. It’s asphyxiating, trying to live up to her mother’s expectations. She wonders if her mom does it on purpose or if she simply has no control over being a control freak.

 

“Sorry, Caddy,” Damian says gently, bumping his foot to her leg.

 

“Thanks.” She sniffs and studies her shoes instead. “It’s whatever. I’ll get her to let me go.”

 

She feels like she’s on a leash, only allowed her independence at a certain length before she’s yanked back to her mom’s side. The more she tries to resist, the more she’s pulled, and the less freedom she’s allowed. She wants to cut the leash, but isn’t sure how.

 

* * *

 

Janis goes home with Cady per her request since Cady will need an excuse to not patch things up with her mom just yet. Luckily Mrs. Heron isn’t even home yet anyway so they have the house to themselves. Cady decides to take Wilson for a late afternoon walk, needing to keep moving due to stress.

 

“Question,” Janis broaches tentatively once they’re back outside. She waits for Cady to look at her to continue. “Did you like homeschooling?”

 

Cady frowns thoughtfully. It was all she’d ever known up until this year, and she supposes as a kid it was fun to spend so much time with her mom and not have to deal with stupid public school nonsense. At the same time, she feels there’s a lot she missed out on. No kindergarten graduation, no talent shows, no middle school dances. She had a great teacher in her mother, but Mrs. Heron was also her only true best friend.

 

“I guess,” she answers after a minute. “High school is exactly what I thought it would be. But I don’t dislike it. Aside from the obvious, it hasn’t been that bad. I like what I’m studying and the fact I met you and Damian. You guys are making it a lot more tolerable. I’d have gone back to homeschooling if it wasn’t for you.”

 

Janis grins softly. “Now that you’ve met us, would you still wanna go back?”

 

“No,” Cady admits earnestly. “No. I like being with you, even in school. As you can tell, I don’t really get to go anywhere. My mom might occasionally let me go to the mall or hang out at your houses, but not without difficulty. She worries so much.”

 

“She just loves you,” Janis reminds her gently, and Cady resists the urge to roll her eyes. _Yeah, she loves me too much._

 

“I know,” Cady murmurs. “I wish she’d love me a little less, honestly. Just enough that she didn’t feel the need to have a say in or control over every part of my life. I need to breathe sometimes and it’s like she thinks she can breathe for me. But I’m not my own person, I’m an extension of her.”

 

This is the one subject where Cady feels there’s a disconnect between her and Janis. Janis doesn’t have a mom, presumably lost her a while ago, and never mentions her. Cady is sure it might _seem_ spoiled and childish to be frustrated with her own mother for being so overbearing, but Janis’s lack of a maternal figure doesn’t mean Cady can’t be upset with hers. Cady doesn’t not love her mom or think she’s a good person. People with moms can have as many valid issues as people who don’t.

 

And as someone who falls in the latter category, Janis has a limited view of the situation, to no fault of her own.

 

The girls fall quiet and won’t look at each other. Cady hates tension, especially when it’s so uncommon for them. She’s itching to have a discussion about this, to get to the root of the problem and hear Janis’s perspective. But she doesn’t even know if Janis’s mom is dead or abandoned her family. It’s a glaring question she’s been avoiding for weeks, and at this rate probably won’t ever muster the courage to ask it.

 

“I love my mom,” she says, breaking the silence, “but there’s things I hate about her, too. That’s normal.”

 

“I hated when my mom made me eat vegetables,” Janis responds, her tone clipped and dry. “I hated when she’d come home too late smelling like alcohol. I hated when she would forget to kiss me goodnight or made my dad sleep on the couch. But she was my mom and I loved her regardless, even if she wasn’t always reliable.”

 

“That’s different,” Cady argues, trying to be sensitive. “She—I don’t know what was going on with her, but that’s different. My mom shoves me in a box. She’s been keeping the lid taped shut for sixteen years and has only just begun letting me out for set amounts of time. And—” She takes a deep breath. She’s gripping Wilson’s leash so tightly, her knuckles are white. “And I’m sorry your mom was…neglectful at times. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have problems with my mom, too. Plus you were a kid. I’m not, and mine still treats me like one. We experienced things differently at different times.”

 

They’ve stopped on the sidewalk. Wilson sits, panting, unaware of what’s happening. Cady stares at Janis, whose gaze is cast to the street. Her heart is pounding—it’s not easy standing up to your friends and clarifying your point of view on something you don’t see eye to eye on. But it’s necessary.

 

“Look,” Cady says, since Janis clearly isn’t going to speak. “We both have mommy issues. Okay? Just different types. But one doesn’t negate the other. I can be upset with how my mom treats me just like you have every right to feel whatever it is you’re feeling about your mom. I’m sorry that things were hard for you guys. You didn’t deserve it. Kids shouldn’t have to be in the crossfire of adults’ problems. But sometimes we are, and it…it sticks with us. It’s stuck with you, and my problems have stuck with me. But I know how fortunate I am to have a mom. I think about it every day. But that doesn’t mean my mom is perfect or that my relationship with her is perfect just because she’s in my life. I know it could be worse, but it still could be a lot better, too.”

 

As she talks, the words flow freely, and she’s surprisingly less anxious than when she started. Janis swallows and looks down at her feet, arms crossed. The breeze tosses her hair, strands catching on her long eyelashes. It’s an inopportune time, but Cady thinks she resembles Snow White.

 

“Please say something,” Cady coaxes, not wanting her explanation to die in vain. It’s important to her that Janis understands, and that it isn’t okay to make her feel bad just because Janis’s mom isn’t around anymore. She feels bad about _that_ , but not for _having_ a mother.

 

She’s spent so much of her life feeling inferior, trapped in a cage, her opinions and feelings unworthy because they aren’t her mom’s. She doesn’t want to be dictated, least of all by her best friend. She knows Janis is hurting, but that’s not an excuse for Janis to demean her frustration towards her mother just because she has one.

 

“Okay,” Janis finally whispers, and Cady can’t decipher her tone. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

 

“You get what?” Cady presses. “Look at me.” She pokes Janis’s arm until Janis lifts her head. She’s glaring, but at least she’s following orders. “What do you get?”

 

“All of it,” Janis insists, annoyed Cady’s talking to her like she’s a child. A base instinct, perhaps. “I see your point. Sorry I made it seem like you had it better. And don’t look at me like that,” she adds, walking off self-consciously. Wilson stands to follow.

 

“Like what?” Cady calls, hurrying after her. “I’m irritated, how do you expect me to look?”

 

“No, you look sorry for me,” Janis snaps. “I’m done throwing myself a pity party.”

 

Cady laughs without humor. “Oh, really? Then what was that, just now? Trying to make me feel guilty for having a mom wasn’t a pity party?”

 

Janis growls and hides her face in her hands. Cady is vibrating with frustration, and not the semi-good kind she usually feels for Janis. They stand there for a long minute as Janis composes herself. Cady’s eyes and throat prickle with emotion.

 

“Do you not want me to pity you?” she mumbles. “Do you not want me to feel bad you don’t have a mom, but feel bad that I do at the same time?”

 

“ _No_ ,” Janis all but shouts, emerging from her hands. Her eyes are rimmed in red. “I just—I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

 

“Then stop talking,” Cady retorts angrily, and Janis looks startled. “Stop talking if you don’t know what’s coming out of your mouth. I said my piece, now you need to think on it and stop guilting me for shit I can’t control. I’m sorry your mom is gone. I don’t know how she exited your life, but I’m sorry. Really, I am. It makes me sad that you don’t get to have a mom throughout your teenage years, because I’ve had good times with my mom during mine. But like I said, _one situation doesn’t negate the other_. I can feel bad for you and feel bad for myself simultaneously. But what you shouldn’t do is feel sorry for yourself but not try to see life through my eyes like I’m doing for you. That isn’t fair. You don’t seem sorry that my mom is an overprotective, domineering control freak. Her _being there_ doesn’t just cancel out her behavior and how it affects me. Just like your mom being gone doesn’t cancel out how it affects you or how you handle it. But don’t expect me to keep giving a shit if you can’t do the same for me. And also, how about I stand and listen to you explain how her being gone makes you feel? Maybe then this wouldn’t be so one-sided.”

 

They’re both crying, and even Wilson whines in distress at the yelling. Cady quickly swipes away the tears that escaped down her flushed cheeks. Her chest is tight, like an enormous hand is squeezing her ribs, constricting her airflow. Everything hurts.

 

“My mom died when I was nine,” Janis says hollowly after a centuries-long pause. “Overdosed on every pill in the medicine cabinet. She didn’t leave a note so everyone just assumed it was an accident. But my dad and I knew it wasn’t. We’ve never talked about it. But we just know she did it on purpose. She was sick in her head. When she died she was sick in her heart, too. And she couldn’t take it anymore. She thought nobody could help her and that we didn’t love her. So, she killed herself.”

 

That settles like freshly fallen snow between them. But Janis isn’t finished. “I was nine,” she echoes thickly. “Almost ten. And I blamed myself for her death. ’Cause I thought a mother’s love should’ve been enough to save her. But I _wasn’t_ enough, and even though I was a kid I didn’t—there’s no way I could’ve known specifics to get her help. My dad kept a lot from me. He still does. So instead of, you know, grieving like a normal child, I spent so much time thinking I’d done something wrong to warrant what my mom chose to do to herself. I made up reasons why she did it and all those reasons were because of me somehow. I didn’t realize until later that it wasn’t about me at all. That she just was sick and couldn’t handle life anymore. She might’ve loved me, but her death wasn’t my fault. But when you’re a kid you don’t know that. You think there is something—something broken inside _you_ that caused her to want to die. That her problems were your fault.”

 

She gasps on a sob and the sound is so horrific it makes Cady cry harder.

 

“But they weren’t,” Janis sniffs. “But that’s what I told myself to deal with it. It had to be my fault somehow, because I didn’t do shit for her when she was still alive, even if it wasn’t my mess to clean up. But she—I don’t know,” she interrupts herself, then gruffly clears her throat. “So. Yeah. She’s gone, and I internalized a lot of it. I think my dad did, too. That’s why we don’t talk about her. Because we don’t really know how.”

 

She looks defeated and dark, her voice tapering off. She and Cady look at each other for another moment, then Cady closes the space between them and hugs her around her neck, Wilson’s leash still in her hand. Janis returns the embrace fiercely, bodies melding together so closely even their kneecaps touch.

 

They don’t say anything, having used up all their words. Janis trembles, holding on to Cady the same way she did that day in the art class closet: like she’s her anchor, and is keeping her from slipping away. Tears fall silently down Cady’s cheeks, and Wilson sits protectively at their feet.

 

* * *

 

By the time Mrs. Heron gets home, they’re huddled under a blanket on the couch, watching more _Stranger Things_ (’tis the season). “Oh, hi, Janis,” she greets cheerfully as she walks in, and Janis smiles sweetly and returns her wave. Cady avoids eye contact.

 

“Hiii,” she says, not bothering to pause the show. “How was your day, Mom?”

 

“Good,” Mrs. Heron sighs, dumping her bag on the table then entering the kitchen to get herself a drink. “What about you girls?”

 

They glance at each other. They had their first real fight—over her, no less. But it’s all good now. Cady hopes it is. Janis would have gone home if things weren’t okay, right? She’d have hopped on her bike and rode away without looking back. But she didn’t.

 

“Same,” Cady answers belatedly. “We both got A’s on a pop quiz.” Always trying to impress, to keep things casual.

 

“Of course you did,” Mrs. Heron says proudly. “Good for you. Well, I’ll leave you be. I’ll be upstairs if you guys need anything, okay?”

 

“Thanks, Mom,” Cady says, and Janis thanks her, too. Mrs. Heron loves how polite Cady’s friends are.

 

After she leaves, Cady finds Janis’s hand under the blanket and laces their fingers together, exhaling. “I’m not looking forward to finishing what she started,” she groans. It’s the most unsavory thing she can imagine doing. She hates arguing with her mom almost as much as she hated arguing with Janis.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Janis murmurs, cheek on top of Cady’s head. “Just…explain how you feel. Assert your independence, Caddy. She’s gonna have to get used to not being as close as you were before. I mean, if she can go to work while you’re at school and manage to not lose her mind over how much she misses you, I think she can figure out a way to cope with you growing up. Give her a chance. She might surprise you.”

 

Cady doubts there’ll be a positive outcome, but she hums in agreement anyway. Janis has a point: her mom’s separation anxiety must be getting better if she can spend up to entire days at work and be okay without Cady. It strikes her as sad that her mom cares more than she does.

 

Cady gives Janis an extra long, extra tight hug before she leaves an hour later. “Text me when you get there,” she asks in a murmur, feeling shy.

 

“I will,” Janis promises, squeezing her hand. Cady watches her mount her bike, offer a two-fingered salute, then ride off down the sidewalk. Sighing, Cady goes back inside to face the inevitable, wishing her mom could just be fucking normal for once.

 

Mrs. Heron looks up from where she’s seated at the kitchen table with her laptop. She steeples her fingers and looks at Cady expectantly, like she wants Cady to apologize. But Cady won’t be the one to speak first. She’s tired of catering to her mom’s feelings all the time.

 

“Alright,” Mrs. Heron says quietly, leaning back in her chair. “Sit down, Cady.”

 

Cady sits, deliberately scraping the chair’s legs on the floor. She fixes her mother with a firm, clenched-jaw look that says _Try me, bitch._

 

To her complete and utter shock, her mom starts off with an apology of her own. “I’m sorry, Cady,” she sighs. “I don’t know why I got so upset this morning.” _I don’t, either. I never know why._ “You were right, you’re sixteen. You should be allowed to go have fun with your friends without me making a fuss.”

 

Cady stares at her, disturbed. “Who are you and what have you done with my mom?”

 

Mrs. Heron rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. I can be agreeable.” _HAHA. No._ “I was thinking about it all day today, and I realized I’m too strict about certain things.” _Everything, you mean. You’re too strict about everything._ “And I’m sorry I got upset. I know you’re not ten anymore. I just remember you always being scared of creepy Halloween stuff. You’d refuse to trick-or-treat at houses with too many weird decorations.”

 

“But that was then,” Cady reminds her softly, heart panging at her expression. “This is now. I wanna have fun with my friends.”

 

“And that’s fine,” Mrs. Heron approves. “You can. I guess I just need to lighten up. I’m sorry, squirt.”

 

Cady grins at the old nickname, then gets up to hug her mother, still confused but relieved they aren’t screaming. Honestly, she wasn’t ready for another shouting match on this already emotional day. She definitely has things she wants to say, but can save them for another day.

 

As much shit as Cady talks, she fears she’ll never be able to direct it towards her mom. That they’ll never mend the tear that just keeps on ripping.


	10. pt 2: ch 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CH10 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  abuse mention  
> d slur

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### ten

 

 

 

“I know it could be worse, but it still could be a lot better, too.”

 

That echoes in Janis’s head as she bikes home. Her chest still aches from crying and the weariness is already beginning to set in. She winds up hopping off her bike so she can just walk, too distracted by her thoughts to safely ride home. Resentment clings to her heart despite better understanding Cady’s point of view. She supposes it will take a while to process everything Cady talked about, because it was a lot to hear.

 

It could be worse: meaning, Cady’s mom could physically or verbally abuse her. It could be better: Cady’s mom could start seeing her daughter as an individual and not the “extension” of her she’s desperately trying to sculpt and hold on to, rather than expect so much of Cady when Cady can’t possibly reach those near-flawless standards—it’s unhealthy for both of them. Perhaps Mrs. Heron justifies it by thinking she wants what’s best for Cady. But what’s best for Cady is breathing room.

 

Janis knows it wasn’t cool to bring up her own mother’s issues in an attempt to make Cady feel guilty for complaining about the mother she has. Janis has always felt people with moms take them for granted no matter the situation—no matter how good or bad someone’s mom is, at least she’s there. Janis’s mom killed herself when Janis was an emotionally vulnerable child. But Cady’s right—that doesn’t mean her situation cancels out Cady’s.

 

It was immature and unfair to throw it in Cady’s face. Janis feels awful.

 

Her father is home from work early, but Janis flops onto the basement couch for a minute, waiting to not feel nauseous anymore. She stares at the ceiling, aware she should tell Cady she made it home but incapable of moving her arms right now. She listens to her dad moving around upstairs, wishing she had the energy to go see him. But he’d take one look at her and know something had happened. So she waits.

 

She’s jolted out of her trance when she hears a cackle not unlike a witch’s, and sits upright in alarm. She listens more intently, stiffening as she realizes her dad isn’t alone. Oh, sweet mother of Jesus Christ. This cannot possibly be happening. Of all the goddamn days.

 

Borderline panicking, Janis quickly texts Cady then sends a more urgent message to Damian: HELP, in all caps. He replies instantly.

 

 

Janis kicks off her shoes and hides under the blanket she keeps on the couch, just in case her dad comes down.

 

 

Abby laughs again, and Janis scowls at the sound, hating it even before she heard it. Her dad probably wasn’t expecting her to be home before eight; she did tell him she’d be with Cady for a while after school. Otherwise he would’ve warned her about this.

 

Oh, God. What if they’ve been having secret rendezvous this entire time outside of dates and work? Probably. She thinks back to what she told him, that he’s a grown man and can do whatever he wants. He doesn’t need her permission to have a girlfriend. At the same time, Janis wishes he didn’t have one at all.

 

 

Janis huffs a laugh. She doesn’t see how it could be. Regardless of if Abby is nice or not, there’s still a strange woman in Janis’s house, cramping her style. Janis isn’t well-versed in Dad’s Girlfriends 101. It’s always just been her and him. Not her and him and her.

 

 

And so she does. Janis refuses to take Damian’s advice and instead chooses to sulk as she waits for Abby to leave. She hears them saying goodbye over an hour later, but it doesn’t make her feel any better. She waits an extra five minutes to be sure Abby is gone, then reluctantly leaves the cocoon of the blanket.

 

She pads up the basement steps to the door, pushing it open slowly. Her dad’s sitting back down in his recliner as she peeks around the corner, and looks toward her when she closes the door, loud enough he’ll hear. “Oh, hey, kid,” he greets, getting up again.

 

“Hi,” Janis says, hoping she sounds normal. She’s trying so hard.

 

He kisses the top of her head when they hug. “Missed you. How was your day, pumpkin?”

 

She shrugs. “It was okay. Oh, um, I didn’t get the chance to tell you because I got the email on my way to school, but my painting got accepted. For the art show.”

 

She should be grateful when his face lights up, but for some inexplicable reason it just makes her sad. “Really?” he replies, and she grins, nodding. He hugs her again. “Oh my God. Jan. That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.” And there he goes, getting emotional. Janis wants to cry, too. _Don’t you dare._

 

“Thanks, Dad,” she says gruffly, grateful he can’t see her face.

 

She promises to forward the email (he wants it for sentimental purposes) then escapes to her room before she’s overwhelmed with the urge to come clean with him. Ollie is asleep on her bed, as usual, and doesn’t protest when she sinks onto the edge and cradles him to her chest. She holds his fluffy but bony body in her arms, looking out her window pensively as she pets him. He purrs contentedly. For the first time today, everything feels calm.

 

Janis knows it won’t last. So she savors it, watching the sun go down.

 

* * *

 

Once she’s feeling up to it, Janis decides to ask how it went with Cady’s mom.

 

 

Janis raises her eyebrows. That surprises her, too. She was prepared for Cady to call her to vent some more.

 

 

Janis actually laughs. Despite having butted heads earlier, she’s happy for her friend. It’s not like she wants Cady to have problems with her mother.

 

 

 _I asked myself the same thing when I was nine,_ Janis doesn’t say.

 

She has a hard time staying asleep that night, continuously awoken by visions of her dead mother. She drifts through her morning routine in a daze, really not wanting to go to school. But the last time she missed was the few months she was granted after her mom died.

 

The sky is gloomy, mirroring her mood. Yesterday morning she was over the moon with joy about her painting, and now she wishes she were still in bed. Nothing matters to her right now. She wants to avoid absolutely everything and everyone.

 

Cady’s waiting on a bench outside school when Janis rides up on her bike. “Hey,” Cady chirps, leaping to her feet. Always so happy to see Janis.

 

“Hey,” Janis echoes with a weak smile, parking her bike. “What’s up?”

 

“Nothin’.” Cady shrugs, stuffing her hands in her coat pockets. “Are you okay?”

 

Janis shrugs, knowing it’d be pointless to lie and say she’s fine. She’s not exactly bothering to hide her misery from the world.

 

Cady links their elbows as they climb the steps. “You ready for this weekend?”

 

It takes Janis a second to remember their plans. “Oh. Yeah. Totally. I haven’t been to a haunted house before, either, if it makes you feel less nervous,” she adds teasingly. “Regina didn’t like them and whenever we spent Halloween with Gretchen she’d act like a huge baby. No fun allowed.”

 

Cady squeezes her arm. “Which is funny,” Janis continues, since her mouth filter apparently isn’t functioning, “because Regina loved—loves Halloween, she goes all out for costumes and parties and stuff. But she never liked haunted houses, or corn mazes. We never did anything fun for Halloween. She’d drag me along to parties, but we didn’t do much else. And anything I felt like doing was automatically stupid.”

 

Stopping at Cady’s locker, Janis leans against the one beside it, folding her arms. “She’d pick out my costumes. I could never look better than her. And if somebody thought I did, she’d give me the silent treatment for an entire week. But that’s what she did—everything was my fault, even if it was hers, or someone else’s.”

 

“That’s not cool,” Cady mutters, shaking her head. Janis watches her curls bounce, wanting to twirl one around her finger. “I’m sorry.”

 

Janis shrugs again, following her to homeroom. “It’s whatever. Halloween will actually be fun this year.”

 

Cady grins and bumps her arm to Janis’s. Janis bumps back, and Cady giggles. That brings a genuine smile to Janis’s face.

 

Her spirits are further lifted during break when Damian starts rattling off costumes. They’re not going to be invited anywhere, but he wants to dress up when they go out this weekend for the hell of it. Janis is vehemently against matching, to his dismay.

 

Cady suddenly and dramatically inhales, startling them both. She stands up, hands spread. “Wait. Janis, you should be Veronica, and Damian, you should be JD. And I can be… Oh! I’ll be Heather McNamara.” Damian high-fives her. Janis puts her hands on her hips to think it through.

 

“I don’t know,” she says hesitantly. “I mean, I just said I don’t wanna match…”

 

“Nooo, it’ll be fun,” Cady insists, grabbing Janis’s shoulders. She’s beaming so wide it’s like the sun has come out after all. “Come on, you’d look so cute. And it’d be funny, because you’re both gay and aren’t actually dating like they were.”

 

Damian snorts himself silly. Perhaps it would be funny, dressing up as those three. Janis has secretly been wanting to be Veronica since she first saw the movie three years ago, but Regina was never keen on that idea. Probably because she was afraid Janis would outshine her. It’d be ironic given the source material.

 

“I’ll look through my closet later, see if I have anything blue,” Janis promises after the bell rings.

 

Cady squeals and hugs her. Maybe this will be worth it, then.

 

* * *

 

“Um, hi, Janis.” When Janis doesn’t turn around, the girl taps her on the shoulder, forcing her to do so.

 

They stare at each other for a moment. It’s Karen Smith, of all people. “What?” Janis ultimately says.

 

Karen holds out a piece of orange paper, and Janis takes it between her fingertips. Black bats border the page, where an invite to a Halloween party is printed. Janis scans it then arches an eyebrow skeptically at Karen. “You’re inviting me to your party?” she deadpans.

 

“Obviously,” Karen replies, rolling her eyes but not in a hurtful way.

 

“Why, so you can pour pig blood on me? No thanks.” Janis shoves the paper back then stalks away from her locker. Karen calls out to her and runs to catch up with her, her shoes clacking on the hallway floor. The sound grates in Janis’s ears.

 

“Janis, wait,” Karen begs, hurrying to keep up even though they’re about the same height. “Wait. It’s not a joke, I want you to come.”

 

Janis stops in the middle of the hallway and Karen wobbles to a halt. Janis looks her up and down critically. “Did Regina put you up to this?” she snaps.

 

Karen’s eyes get big and she rapidly shakes her head, brows furrowing. “No. Regina—she doesn’t even know I’m throwing a party,” she hisses, dropping her voice. “So I’m being really discreet about invitations.” Like the orange paper isn’t eye-catching at all. “Like, who I’m giving them to.”

 

Janis frowns. “How do you expect people to not talk about it later?” she asks. “Regina will find out you had a party and didn’t invite her, and your Plastic card will get revoked. Say goodbye to makeovers and shopping trips, because she might actually kill you.”

 

Karen seems disturbed by the severity of Janis’s words. “Regina would never hurt me,” she states innocently.

 

Janis huffs sarcastically. “Keep telling yourself that, babycakes,” she answers bluntly, and walks away. Karen doesn’t follow her this time.

 

Janis asks Damian and Cady if they got invitations, too, and they both retrieve folded-up papers from their pockets.

 

“You didn’t take yours?” Cady says, looking aghast at Janis’s rudeness.

 

Janis shrugs uncomfortably. “I didn’t want it,” she says, munching on a pickle slice.

 

“You still should’ve taken it,” Cady mumbles, and Janis gives her a look. “It would’ve been nice. Whether or not you go, she’s just trying to make friends. People will probably only go because they expect Regina to be there. Karen’s not like the other Plastics.”

 

“So you’ve mentioned,” Janis counters irritably. “I don’t care, Caddy. Forgive me for not being able to trust her, no matter how dumb and sweet she seems. You never know with those bitches. And the odds of Regina _not_ being at her party are actually pretty slim. She’ll either murder Karen for not inviting her in the first place or she’ll find out and crash the whole thing. She’s an attention whore, I wouldn’t put it past her.”

 

Cady sighs through her nose, glaring at Janis. Damian quietly eats his fries, caught in the middle here.

 

“Well, I might go,” Cady eventually says, and Janis’s heart sinks.

 

“Says the girl who wants to topple the Plastics,” Janis mocks, and Cady’s jaw drops. “Yeah, I said it. You’d be a major hypocrite if you went to Karen’s party, knowing there’s a chance Regina could show up. Or is that another reason for you to go? The first is to spite me and the second is to fuel your agenda against her.”

 

“I don’t have an agenda,” Cady protests, horrified, and Janis laughs. “Really, I don’t. I told you I’m not going to do anything to anybody. And if I went to Karen’s party, it’d be to have some fucking fun. Maybe try to meet some new people, too. Doesn’t mean I’ll be hanging out with her.”

 

“We’re not good enough friends for you anymore, huh?” Janis quips unthinkingly.

 

“I didn’t say that,” Cady blurts, and there’s tears in her eyes. “Jesus, stop twisting everything I say!”

 

“Then stop talking,” Janis jabs, echoing what Cady told her yesterday. Cady’s face contorts strangely, and Janis is too mad to feel bad over her hurt expression. Then Cady grabs her lunch tray and flounces away, not unlike an agitated Plastic.

 

Damian lightly slaps Janis on the arm. “What is up with you today?” he whispers, looking torn.

 

Janis doesn’t respond, because she isn’t sure herself. Damian sighs and gets up, leaving her alone to presumably go after Cady. Janis doesn’t follow.

 

Neither of them come to see her in art class later, and her painting winds up boasting lots of angry reds and mournful blues. Her teacher asks her about it and she’s honest with him when she says it’s how she’s feeling today. She gave that explanation a lot in therapy this past summer.

 

Cady hasn’t texted her by the time she gets home, but Damian wants to know how she is. She doesn’t answer him, annoyed with him, too. She takes an unnecessarily long shower and debates whether or not she wants to throw up today. She’s only done it twice in the last month, and she keeps telling herself it isn’t for body image reasons. But it helps, somehow. In with the good, out with the bad. And there’s a lot of bad today.

 

Fucking Cady. Janis feels like she should be surprised, but isn’t. Of course Cady wants to go to Karen’s party. Always up for giving people a chance. She’s going to be sorry when she shows up at that party dressed as an eighties cheerleader and gets taunted and thrown out. There’s no way Regina isn’t going or doesn’t know about it. Janis has a hard time believing Karen fucking Smith could pull off a secret party.

 

Regina didn’t like when people kept things from her. She still doesn’t. So Karen’s the other idiot who greatly overestimates herself.

 

Janis remembers a time where Regina made her vomit and Karen didn’t do anything about it. That was before either her or Gretchen had become official Plastics; Regina’s time was spent mostly with Janis and she was selective about who they hung out with. But one day Regina didn’t shut the bathroom door all the way and Karen heard what was going on. But she didn’t speak up or help Janis. Despite the whiny argument that occurred, Karen stayed mute.

 

Because she’s a passive, susceptible moron and didn’t want her head to end up in Regina’s toilet.

 

All the Plastics are selfish, spoiled brats with no moral compass. Janis wonders how she managed to get her soul back after what happened, because Regina forced her to hand it over when they were ten. Maybe a piece of it is still with Regina. Or maybe she actually has most of it, because Janis has never felt more like a Plastic than she has today. Lashing out at Cady like that may have been justified, but she was so angry and felt entitled to every ounce of Cady’s loyalty. She can’t expect Cady, who is so open and kind and forgiving, to agree with her on everything or not give Karen a chance.

 

There’s still so much Cady doesn’t know. Janis wonders if it would change anything if she knew the whole story, or would it only make things worse.

 

* * *

 

Janis skips dinner, her stomach too in knots for her to eat. She’s still bunged up over yesterday—she hadn’t fully acknowledged her dad’s dating life was a reality until Abby was in their house. Perhaps it was childish to hide from her, but meeting her is the last thing Janis wanted to do. So she doesn’t feel too bad.

 

She knows, eventually, she’ll have to. She’s dreading that day so much.

 

She wishes she could talk to her dad, really talk to him, without it being weird or awkward or uncomfortable. She doesn’t blame him for never wanting to discuss her mother even though it would’ve been wise for him to do so years ago. It’s too late now, and Janis can deal with it on her own. She actually doesn’t “deal with it” much anymore—it’s not exactly a pressing concern. She thinks she’s moved on and let go, but knows her mom’s death not only left a gaping hole in her life, but pushed it onto a path Janis was not emotionally equipped to handle. As a result, Regina betrayed her and outed her to their school and painted her as a creepy dyke. Years of friendship only for it to end in a flaming pile of shit that’s still burning, and Janis can’t put out the fire.

 

But Janis can’t talk about that with her father. He might know she’s gay and that Regina lied about being groped, but that’s it. She knows he probably has questions (really, what father wouldn’t) but appreciates how he’s given her space and time on her own. She’d die if he was obsessed with her life like Cady’s mom is with hers.

 

Oh. When she thinks about it like that, Cady’s situation makes more sense. She’d feel trapped, too, if her dad didn’t allow her any privacy, or had weirdly high expectations. Other than her being a good person and remembering to vacuum, Mr. Sarkisian doesn’t expect much of his daughter.

 

Janis hadn’t thought about that until now. Maybe because they were talking about mothers, she hadn’t thought to put herself in Cady’s shoes but with her dad. It’s clearer to her now, and she bites her cheek guiltily. Guess she’ll have to apologize for that, too.

 

But this whole Karen thing—God. Cady promised she wouldn’t get involved with the Plastics, and while attending Karen’s party doesn’t automatically mean she’ll be friends with her, she’s still accepting her invitation. And if Regina does show up, Janis is positive she’d do something so horrible Cady would lose her mind and go through with her wacky revenge plot anyway. And Karen’s stupid ass thinking Regina won’t find out she threw a Halloween party without her… Rest in peace, Karen.

 

Janis drags her hands down her face, sighing. She wishes she could make Cady understand none of the Plastics are trustworthy. That Karen’s party is destined to fail. That nobody is strong enough or smart enough to take on Regina George.

 

But Regina’s good at getting what she wants. Cady Heron is, too. And Janis fears she’s losing her grip on her friend.

 

* * *

 

“Hi. I miss you. I’m still mad at you but I miss you. And I don’t like when we fight. It feels…wrong. Damian says you won’t answer his texts, so I’m kinda worried. If you could call me or text him back, we’d sleep better tonight. Um… Yeah. I wanna talk this out. However you wanna do that is fine with me. Bye.”

 

Janis listens to Cady’s voicemail three times before calling her back. It’s ten o’clock and Cady could already be asleep, but given the concern in her voice Janis doubts it, so she doesn’t feel too bad about returning the call at this hour. She can’t sleep, either.

 

“Hi,” Cady says softly, and despite the circumstances Janis’s heart flutters.

 

“Hi,” she echoes, reaching down to pet Ollie’s head. He’s present for moral support.

 

They’re quiet for a moment, then Cady speaks first. “So. Um. Are you okay?”

 

“No,” Janis admits. It’s easier to say it over the phone. “I’m not. Are you?”

 

“No,” Cady repeats. “It’s been a funky couple of days, huh?”

 

Janis snickers at the word _funky_. “You could say that, Caddy.”

 

“I think…we’ve both said things without thinking,” Cady broaches carefully. “And I’m sorry. You were right—it’d be petty of me to go to the party just because you don’t want me to. I mean, I do kinda wanna go. Just because it’s a Halloween party. I’ve never been to one.”

 

“I mean it when I say I’d fear for your safety,” Janis murmurs, not even joking. “And yeah, because it’s Karen. I—I knew her. Before. She did some shitty things. So I don’t… I find it hard to trust her. She could be changing, but she still hangs out with Regina. She became her new BFF after I got kicked to the curb.”

 

“Okay,” Cady says diplomatically. “I get that. You have to tell me things, Janis. I’m not a mind reader. When you get mad at me about Karen, I don’t understand why, so that makes me defensive because you don’t offer an explanation. But now it makes sense.”

 

Janis is prickly with some unidentifiable feeling as she’s called out, ever so gently. “Yeah. So. That’s why I don’t like Karen, and the thought of you going to her party makes me nervous. Just because I…care about you and don’t want something bad to happen to you, whether Regina’s there or not.”

 

“I see,” Cady replies. “Well. I still wanna go. I can take care of myself.”

 

 _That’s what worries me._ “I know. You do what you want,” Janis says, trying not to sound snippy. “I can’t tell you what to do, only warn you.”

 

“And I’ll be vigilant,” Cady vows. “I’ll leave if I’m not comfortable or not having fun.”

 

Janis sighs heavily. “Sorry I said me and Damian aren’t good enough friends for you anymore.”

 

“Thanks.” Cady clears her throat. “You guys are my best friends. I need you. Please don’t forget that.”

 

Janis’s eyes well up with tears and for once she doesn’t try to hold them back. “I won’t, Caddy,” she whispers. _I need you, too,_ she doesn’t say. _I need you, and it scares me how much. That’s why I don’t want you to get hurt. Or go down the dark path I did._

 

She just doesn’t want Cady to lose herself in her vendetta against Regina. Because Janis isn’t sure she’d be able to get her back.


	11. pt 2: ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CH11 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  self harm

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### eleven

 

 

 

Janis has a lot of freaking nerve, and Cady’s too pissed to think straight.

 

She walks in circles around the courtyard fountain to calm down. Damian followed her outside, but sits on a bench to keep his distance. She feels a twang of surprise since Damian always seems to sway slightly more towards Janis’s side of things. So Janis must’ve really crossed a line if he’s here for Cady.

 

If Cady wanted to destroy Regina’s life, she would’ve rebelled against Janis and done it by now. It’s just a party that happens to be thrown by Karen Smith. Cady planned to go even before she told Janis, and now she wants to go even more just because of Janis’s reaction.

 

She’s tired of being told what to do. She’s been her mother’s puppet for sixteen years, she isn’t going to allow her best friend to take hold of the strings.

 

Sighing, Cady takes a seat next to Damian and leans heavily on his arm. He gently takes her hand. “I don’t know what her deal is,” he sighs, sad for both his friends. “Janis lashes out sometimes, though. Obviously. It’s how she handles stuff.”

 

Cady scoffs. “She needs new ways of _handling stuff_ , then,” she grumbles. “I don’t like being shouted at.”

 

“And she doesn’t like shouting,” Damian says quietly, always trying to find a middle ground. “She’s gonna feel like shit later. It’s like, she feels and feels and bottles up those feelings until something sets her off and she gets really mad. She hates talking about her feelings. And then she crashes afterward.”

 

“Crashes?” Cady murmurs, but certain things are starting to make more sense with that explanation.

 

“Yeah,” Damian nods. “You know how sometimes she comes to school acting kinda weird? Like, quiet and sorta like she isn’t really there? Like today, actually.” Cady nods. “That tends to happen after she lets out all her feelings. Her brain kinda shuts down to protect itself.”

 

Cady squeezes his hand. “I wish she’d just talk to me,” she whispers. “Have a normal discussion like a normal person so we don’t wind up fighting.”

 

“Darling,” Damian sighs, fond but sad. “Janis isn’t what you’d call normal.”

 

Cady huffs a laugh. Truer words have never been spoken, and the catch is that it’s both a good and bad thing.

 

* * *

 

Cady feels better after her phone call with Janis, glad they were able to tell each other how they felt without all the theatrics. It still takes her a while to fall asleep afterward, her brain buzzing from their conversation. She is nervous to see her at school the next day, but Janis greets her with a tentative smile and Cady’s insides are back to doing somersaults. She’s pleased to see some color has returned to Janis’s face.

 

“Morning,” she says as she walks up, returning Janis’s smile. She sits down beside her on the bench.

 

They’re quiet for a minute, waiting for the other to speak first. Cady isn’t sure what to say.

 

“You really wanna go?” Janis eventually murmurs, kneading her cold hands in her gloves, avoiding Cady’s eyes.

 

“I do,” Cady replies earnestly, scooting closer to her for warmth. Their knees touch. “I don’t think it’ll be a big deal. If Regina’s there, I’ll hide from her.”

 

Janis laughs. “Good luck with that. If she knew you were there, she’d probably track you down just to pour punch on your costume.”

 

“Then I’m prepared for that to happen,” Cady says confidently. “And I’d go home. She already doesn’t like me. Especially not after I refused to join the Plastics.” She shakes her head, scoffing. “I still wonder what that was about. There’s no way she actually thought I had ‘Plastic Potential.’”

 

“It was a murder plot,” Janis theorizes. “She was gonna kill you to further ruin my life.”

 

Cady is morbidly flattered that her death at Regina’s hands would devastate Janis.

 

Damian arrives then, dramatically sagging with relief at the sight of Janis. She gets up to hug him, looking guilty. “Girl,” he laments, squeezing her. “I thought you were dead or something. You have to answer my texts.” He huffs. “Oh, hi, Caddy.”

 

“Hey,” Cady chirps, waving awkwardly. Janis must’ve been mad at both of them if she wasn’t talking to Damian.

 

Needless to say, things are still kind of tense amongst them throughout the day. It troubles Cady and she doesn’t like it one bit. School is not supposed to remind her of her home life, with all the unspoken words between her and her mother and the anxiety over whether or not she’s doing something wrong.

 

“Are we still up for our _Heathers_ costumes?” she timidly asks later while they’re in the hall before calculus.

 

Janis grins, retrieving stuff from her locker. “Hell, yeah, baby,” she replies, and Cady hides her blushing cheeks behind her curls. She’s looking forward to putting together a costume despite the fact they aren’t trick-or-treating. (She briefly wondered if they could get away with doing that, but both Damian and Janis are too tall to pass for kids.) A funny feeling settles in her stomach as she tries to picture which of Veronica’s outfits Janis will wear.

 

“I’m gonna look so greasy and sociopathic,” Damian gushes, tossing imaginary hair.

 

The girls snort with laughter, linking their elbows with his. “The Outcasts meet _Heathers_ ,” Cady muses optimistically. “Just without all the murder.”

 

* * *

 

After school, Damian’s mom drives them downtown so they can shop around for their costumes. Cady hasn’t yet explored the city, so she lets her friends lead the way. She takes Janis’s hand whenever they cross the street and is pleasantly surprised when Janis won’t let her pull away once they’re back to the sidewalk.

 

“I think I already have blue socks,” Janis muses as they browse the aisles of a thrift store. “But I don’t have anything else that’s blue.”

 

“She doesn’t just wear blue,” Cady reminds her kindly, but would die to see Janis wear blue.

 

“But it’s her thing,” Janis protests, tapping her chin. “Nobody will know who I am if I don’t wear blue.”

 

“Ohh, Janis, this is pretty,” Damian calls, and they go over to him. He is admiring a royal blue blazer with black and white buttons, over a white dress shirt, paired with a tiny grey and black striped skirt. Janis gags as soon as she lays eyes on it.

 

“The skirt’s too small,” she critiques, but reaches out to touch the buttons. “I’d get groped in this.”

 

“But it’s cute,” Damian insists, like that negates Janis’s valid concern. Oh, to be a guy.

 

“It might be blue, but nobody could tell I’m Veronica,” Janis sighs. “Plus, my dad would never let me leave the house in this. Also, it’s cold outside.”

 

“I’ll be wearing a skirt, too,” Cady chimes in. “Maybe we could wear mesh tights or something.”

 

Janis purses her lips, looking at the headless mannequin. “I dunno,” she mumbles, but it seems to be growing on her the more she looks at it. “I could just get the shirt and the jacket, then wear one of my school skirts instead. I’m not trying to be sexy.”

 

Cady nods, trying to hide her disappointment over Janis’s lack of enthusiasm for the skirt. What she wouldn’t give to see her in that.

 

It takes some persuasion to actually do it but Janis leaves the shop with just the shirt and the jacket. Cady bought a yellow scrunchie for herself, and Damian a toy handgun that Janis isn’t too psyched about but knows it’s relevant to the character.

 

“I thought you were gonna be McNamara as a cheerleader,” Janis says to Cady as Cady pulls her hair back with her scrunchie, testing it out.

 

Cady shrugs. “Nah, I’m gonna look for a yellow blazer instead,” she admits. “So you and I can match.”

 

Janis seems rather pleased at that idea. Cady’s heart throbs with affection.

 

“Are you gonna do anything with your hair?” Cady asks her as they sit at the counter of a cute diner they stumbled upon, waiting for milkshakes.

 

“Oof.” Janis’s eyes get big at being reminded their characters are from the eighties. “Um. Yeah, I guess so. I’ll try to, at least.”

 

“You’ll still look cute with frizzy eighties hair,” Damian assures her.

 

Janis groans, putting her head down on her arms. “Halloween is so stupid,” she gripes. “I’m gonna spend at least an hour on my hair and makeup just to go out for a couple hours at a haunted house and shit, not even _on_ Halloween. And then on Halloween I’ll be chilling in my PJ’s in my basement.”

 

The suggestion pops out of Cady’s mouth before she even realizes she’s thought it. “What if you came to Karen’s party with me? Both—both of you.”

 

Her friends look at her with open mouths. “No,” Janis says bluntly.

 

Cady bites her lip, hoping she didn’t just ruin what they’d fixed. “I mean… It might not be so bad if we’re together.”

 

“No, it’d be worse,” Janis grumbles, chin in her hand. “Because we’d stand out more, the three of us.”

 

Cady’s brow pinches. “I know you expect the worst of Karen, but we could still have a good time. There’ll probably be so many people the Plastics won’t be able to track us down. And if they did…we’re stronger together. And it’s not like we’d be going to prove anything, we’d be there to have a good time like everyone else. And people don’t like us already, it’s not like we’ll do anything to make our stunning reputation worse.”

 

“The Plastics will find a way to ruin it,” Janis says darkly. “They always do.”

 

To Janis’s left, Damian shakes his head at Cady pleadingly, so she presses her lips together to keep from pushing it.

 

They talk about other Halloween shenanigans they want to get up to while they sip their milkshakes. Janis rattles off a list of Halloween movies Cady has to see, creating a checklist on her phone to keep track of them all. It doesn’t surprise Cady in the slightest that Janis has all those movies on tape (yes, tape, because her basement TV is so old and it originally came with a VCR). She looks forward to seeing how well she handles horror films, obviously never having watched any.

 

Halloween is a week away, Cady realizes on the ride back to her house. Her Halloweens have never been particularly fun or exciting. In a week the holiday will be put to the test—and perhaps so will Cady’s sanity, and maybe even her friendship with Janis.

 

* * *

 

Initially Mrs. Heron is uncertain about the costume choice, but makes an effort to be tolerant after Cady begs her to help her put together an outfit. By some miracle, there’s a pale yellow dress jacket in her parents’ closet, and Cady is ecstatic when it fits. Mrs. Heron gets more into it when Cady suggests she help with her hairstyle—Mrs. Heron literally was a teenager in the eighties, so maybe there’s a middle ground here.

 

“I didn’t know you watched _Heathers_ ,” Mrs. Heron mentions as Cady admires how she looks in the mirror.

 

“Yeah, we watched it during our first sleepover last month,” Cady replies, hoping she isn’t about to receive a lecture.

 

“It’s a good movie,” her mother comments, and Cady arches an eyebrow at her. “What? I’ve seen it. I saw it with your father when it came out. Why’s that funny?” For Cady is snickering in total disbelief. “Oh, come on, I know how to have fun.”

 

“Yeah, you used to,” Cady quips as she unbuttons the blazer. “It’s like, you had your fun then you grew up and now I can’t have any fun myself.”

 

“That’s not true,” Mrs. Heron argues. “I don’t keep you locked up here _all the time_. I let you go out with your friends today, didn’t I? And I got you into that school since you’d told me you wanted some independence? I’m not Mother Gothel, Cady, and you most definitely aren’t Rapunzel.”

 

Cady’s reeling from the implication it was her mother that got her into North Shore and not her own intellect. “I got into _that school_ because I’m smart and I deserve to learn there. All you did was let me enroll, but I got accepted because I’m smart enough.”

 

Mrs. Heron drills her nails against the porcelain counter of her sink. Cady holds the blazer close, but stands her ground. She isn’t going to let her mom win this argument, or go to bed tonight thinking Cady’s only as good as she’s made her to be. Cady is good and smart all on her own. She would be even without her mom.

 

“I’m not the enemy, sweetheart,” Mrs. Heron says softly, starting to look wounded. That’s when Cady drops her eyes from her face, knowing she’ll crumble under the weight of remorse for snapping. _You’re allowed to feel,_ she reminds herself. _You’re allowed to get upset. You’re your own person._

 

Cady clenches her jaw. “Then stop acting like it,” she murmurs, and brushes past her as she leaves to find refuge in her bedroom. For the first time in her life, she locks the door behind her, not feeling entirely secure in her safety. Not that Mrs. Heron would bust in brandishing a chainsaw but Cady doesn’t want to get yelled at. She meant what she said and isn’t going to take it back. To her mom, that’s worse than the words themselves.

 

A text from Janis is waiting for her and she smiles a little at the notification. Despite not being physically present, Janis still finds a way to calm her and make her feel better. She wistfully, semi-selfishly wonders if she has the same effect on Janis.

 

 

She hangs up the blazer then goes to sit in her windowseat, legs up on the cushion. Janis excitedly tells her about the movie, and while Cady is a tad confused by the plot, she’s excited to watch it, just because Janis wants her to see it. (Plus, she likes Winona Ryder. You’d be heartless not to.)

 

She doesn’t bring up the blazer because she’s afraid to mention Halloween again today. She only partially regrets suggesting they should all go to the party together. She’s going with or without them, but genuinely doesn’t think anything bad will happen.

 

Perhaps that’s just wishful thinking, but Cady wants to harbor a little hope. Karen can’t be all bad. She never seems to be genuinely okay with Regina and Gretchen’s antics and regardless of whatever “shitty things” she once did, she doesn’t appear to participate anymore. Which makes Cady wonder why Regina hasn’t kicked her out yet; she’s valuable in some invisible way. Cady is positive Karen isn’t still a Plastic out of Regina’s pity—Regina George doesn’t feel bad for anyone.

 

Cady and Janis talk until Janis has to go make dinner, and then Cady is left alone with her thoughts, which is fun. She hugs herself and looks out at the darkening street as guilt crawls up her throat and weaves its way between her ribs. She doesn’t want to feel bad for how she spoke to her mother, but she does. It’s like her brain and her heart are constantly at war with each other—one wants to be logical and the other wants to think separately, outside of reason. Though is it really unreasonable to want to have a bit of freedom, to be proud of her own accomplishments without her mom taking credit? Cady could cure cancer and her mother would find a way to say, “Well, she had the best teacher growing up: me.” Cady’s blood boils at the very thought.

 

Sometimes she isn’t even sure if she knows herself. If the Cady she is isn’t the Cady she’s supposed to be. If she’s meant to break out of this shell, this fusion of things her mother wanted in a daughter. If she’ll ever get the chance to take off not just the leash, but the collar around her neck, with a nametag that says her mother’s name and not hers. Because she doesn’t really belong to herself, does she? Up until the day she moves out to go to college, she’ll be her mother’s property. At least, that’s how it feels. It will be a beautifully heartbreaking day when she wakes up in a dorm room knowing she can be who she wants.

 

But then again, suddenly being alone will terrify her, because she won’t know what to do with all that abrupt freedom. It’ll fall in her lap and she’ll panic. She’ll run home and back into her mother’s arms. Because it’s safe there. Mom can handle it, Mom can take care of her, Mom will know how to help. Mom will make her dinner and grade all her assignments and check on her before she goes to sleep. Mom will guide her through adulthood, just like she’s held her hand and guided her throughout her life. Except she doesn’t just hold Cady’s hand—she has a firm grip on her wrist, because Cady’s trying to let go, but Mrs. Heron is too scared to do it herself.

 

The panic and the fear and the uncertainty is too much for Cady to bear. She feels like she’s bursting at the seams, pressure pushing at her skin. Her arms feel heavy. She blinks and she’s sitting naked under the hot stream of water in the shower. She breathes quick and sharp around her tears. She doesn’t even feel it when the blade touches her thigh, and a fuzzy, relaxed sensation takes over her brain as blood trickles onto the bathtub floor. She watches it turn pink as the water pushes it towards the drain. Like the bad things in her head and heart are finally being swept away.

 

She leans back, head against the porcelain, and shuts her eyes, thinking about nothing but breathing.

 

* * *

 

Mrs. Heron walks Cady to school the next morning under the guise of mending their quarrel last night. Cady is already in a bad mood; she’s angry with herself for relapsing and feels equal parts numb and full of some heavy emotion she can’t identity. It’s deeper than shame, somehow.

 

“Look,” she mutters as her mother is going to speak first, “I know you’ve been letting me do things on my own. And I appreciate it. But—even so, I have to ask permission. I have to go through you in order to feel independent. And I…don’t like feeling like you own me.”

 

Mrs. Heron scoffs in contempt. “I don’t own you. And you ask permission because you’re _sixteen years old_. I need to know where you’re going and who you’re with and that is my right as a parent. If I let you do whatever the hell you wanted, you’d end up either dead in a ditch or pregnant. And you’re better than that.”

 

Cady grits her teeth against the implication that teen mothers are worthless, thinking of Damian’s mom.

 

“It’s just that—I’ve felt this way my whole life,” Cady pushes on, staring straight ahead. “You’re always freaking _there_. You homeschooled me because you couldn’t handle it if I was in school—no, listen,” for Mrs. Heron had begun to protest, “listen, Mom. Why do you think I had separation anxiety, too? Because I hadn’t gone to preschool to prep for kinder. Because you couldn’t let me go for a few hours several times a week. So then when I couldn’t handle kinder, you started homeschooling me. But you had anxiety over it, too. More than me, if we’re being real here. Obviously you got over it enough you let me go to high school now, but in the last ten years I haven’t had a moment or a day to myself. My old friends weren’t really my friends because I couldn’t hang out with them enough. Because you wouldn’t let me. Or if they came over, you’d hover since you hate being left out. And so nobody wanted to go to Cady’s house because her weirdo mom was there. You don’t let me _breathe_ , Mom. My life revolves around you, and not because I want it to, but because _you_ do. Because you can’t handle not being in control.”

 

Her hands are shaking and her voice cracked and she’s crying a little, but she did it. She didn’t intend to let all of it out, but once she started she couldn’t stop. What shocks her the most is that she’s bravely looking her mom dead in the face.

 

“You’ve had your hand around my throat my entire life,” Cady hisses. “So forgive me if I’m kinda struggling for air here.”

 

Her mother’s eyes—her own eyes, staring back at her—are huge, her mouth open. Cady doesn’t wait for a response, breaking into a sprint when her mother calls after her. But Mrs. Heron doesn’t chase her, glued to the sidewalk by the truth and force of her daughter’s declaration. Cady keeps running anyway.


	12. pt 2: ch 4

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### twelve

 

 

 

Janis’s first thought is that Cady looks remarkably like a lion today. And then Cady gets closer, marching down the sidewalk and panting for breath, and Janis gets a clearer view of her face. Cheeks flushed, eyes streaming. Crying around gasps for air.

 

Janis isn’t sure what to do. She stands from the bench, lips parted, watching Cady approach the school. Cady crosses the street and walks right past Janis like she doesn’t even know she’s there. Janis follows her, figuring Damian will find them anyway, but doesn’t call her name, afraid to bring attention to whatever’s happening. Janis stays on her trail until Cady disappears into the girls’ restroom. Janis hesitates outside, heart pounding, wondering what she should do.

 

“What’s the matter with you, Sarkisian?” someone sneers, and Janis looks to her left in a daze. Gretchen is standing several feet away, Karen beside her. Gretchen arches a perfect eyebrow, silently taunting Janis to answer her. “What, you’re not gonna follow your little toy?”

 

She cackles like that’s so funny. Karen looks down at her feet. _Coward._

 

People’s eyes are on them, but Janis doesn’t give a single shit as she raises her middle finger at Gretchen and ducks into the bathroom after Cady.

 

“Caddy?” she yells over the din of chattering girls, pushing past them in search of her friend. She sags with relief when she spots her at the other set of sinks, using a paper towel to dry her eyes. Janis takes note of how nobody seems to care; no one’s offering to help or see if she’s alright. Despite being surrounded by people, Cady is alone—it just goes to show how influential Regina’s unsympathetic attitude is.

 

Janis walks up slowly behind her, watching the back of her head rather than her reflection. Cady sees her in the mirror but doesn’t turn around yet; she wets the towel to get the sticky residue of tears off her cheeks. Janis is usually the one in need of consoling; she’s only seen Cady cry a handful of times.

 

It’s not even the fact she’s crying that bothers Janis. It’s the look on her face, the weariness and anger in her eyes. Cady’s eyes are very expressive—Janis can normally tell how she’s really feeling based on what her eyes are saying. And Janis feels sick, wondering who hurt Cady.

 

The girls begin to filter out as first classes approach, but Janis loyally stays near Cady, waiting to see what she can do. When the last person is gone and Cady is looking at her hands, presumably anticipating the end of her quivering fingers, Janis gets closer and puts a hand on her shoulder. Just that small touch is all it takes, because Cady is breaking down half a second later. She throws herself at Janis, sobbing, and Janis hugs her as tight as she possibly can. Despite the strength in Cady’s grip, she feels light and weak in Janis’s arms. Her knees give out after a minute, so Janis carefully brings them both to the floor, kneeling on the tile, still holding each other like they’re afraid to let go. Perhaps they are; perhaps Cady would fall into pieces, and Janis is the glue keeping her together. She’ll be the glue as long as Cady needs her.

 

The bell rings, and Cady cries through it. Janis’s question is answered for her just by thinking about it logically. Who else is capable of upsetting Cady like this? Her mother, undoubtedly. Janis squeezes her, her own tears welling fast. Her legs are losing circulation from kneeling and her back is going to hurt, but she can pay no mind to that, as it pales in comparison to what Cady is enduring right now. Nothing else matters.

 

Ultimately Cady begins to quiet down, pulling back from Janis to sit cross-legged on the floor. Janis silently takes her hand, and Cady grips back fiercely. She keeps crying, softer now, her face streaked with tears, eyes rimmed in red. She must really trust Janis if she’s letting her see her like this: vulnerable, raw, broken. This is probably Cady’s first time being so exposed to someone in years. Maybe even her whole life. Janis’s gut twists strangely.

 

Sniffling, Cady tucks her hair behind her ears, eyes dropped to her lap. Janis rubs her thumb along Cady’s knuckles, not pressuring her to talk. Honestly, Cady doesn’t have to explain. She could just get up and leave and Janis would understand.

 

But Cady stays where she is, and so does Janis. Nothing could make her want to be anywhere but here.

 

* * *

 

Cady sits on the counter, hands curled in her lap, as Janis dampens another paper towel to wipe her face with. Janis is gentle when she does it, dabbing around Cady’s red eyes and on her cheeks. Then she shucks her backpack off and looks through it, retrieving her makeup bag for emergencies like this. She doesn’t typically wear lots of makeup, keeping it natural for her own comfort, but figures Cady will want to avoid being stared at if her face is blotchy.

 

Cady is visibly not mentally present for any of this, but still looks up for eyeliner when Janis asks her to and rubs her lips together after Janis applies a little lipstick. Pleased, Janis smiles at her and murmurs, “There. Now nobody will be able to tell.”

 

Cady hops off the counter and turns to admire her reflection. Janis quickly fixes her curls, finding one of her own clips to pull back a front piece that isn’t cooperating. “Okay, now I’m done,” Janis assures, and Cady cracks a grin. Her blue eyes pop thanks to the mascara, and something aches in Janis’s stomach.

 

“Thank you, Janis,” Cady whispers as Janis dons her backpack again.

 

“No problem,” Janis replies with a shrug. Cady’s still looking at her, and her expression is unreadable. Janis is weirdly floored by it, the intensity of her gaze, the soft little ‘O’ of her lips. Janis wants to kiss her. Jesus Christ, Janis _really_ wants to kiss her.

 

But then the bathroom door bangs open and they both jump away from each other like they were doing more than just staring. Some girl walks in, gives them a disparaging look, then locks herself in a stall. Now Janis’s cheeks are turning red, and Cady snorts an awkward laugh.

 

“Come on,” she says, slipping her hand into Janis’s. Janis is lead out of the bathroom, and because the halls are empty Cady keeps holding her hand. They walk to English together, and Janis’s heart sinks sadly when Cady is forced to let go.

 

They receive annoyed looks from their teacher, and after exchanging a wide-eyed glance the girls head to their seats. During class, Janis occasionally peeks over at Cady, just to be sure she’s okay. Cady catches her eye one time and scrunches her nose, and it replays in Janis’s head until the end of class.

 

Damian catches up with them when break starts, spotting them at Janis’s locker and pushing through the crowd to see them. “Where have you guys _been_?” he whines, but his face is so genuinely stricken Janis can’t possibly laugh at him. He’s not used to being left out or abandoned.

 

“Caddy wasn’t… Um, we had a bit of situation,” Janis tells him warily. “But it’s all good now.”

 

Damian squints at Cady’s face. “Are you wearing makeup?”

 

“And you’re wearing nail polish,” Cady deadpans, and after a beat all three of them crack up. Janis leans against the lockers, hands over her mouth, and Damian is doubled over. It’s not terribly funny but that isn’t the point. Janis is just glad to see Cady smiling.

 

The rest of the day is better, and for Cady’s sake Janis is glad. They skip gym in favor of hiding in the back of the auditorium, because it’s dark and quiet and they won’t get caught. Janis pulls out her sketchpad, feet up on the seat in front of her, while Cady hunches into her chair with her phone.

 

“How do you draw in the dark?” Cady asks suddenly, sounding surprised.

 

Janis is glad she can’t see what she’s working on. “I don’t need light to know what I’m doing,” she tells her, smirking.

 

In her peripheral, she sees Cady grinning, almost like she knows.

 

* * *

 

Cady shows up at Janis’s house on Saturday afternoon, already in her costume. Janis gasps in delight; she looks adorable, like a piece of lemon gumdrop candy. Whatever she resembles, it’s cute as hell, and Janis is smitten. She hides it, of course.

 

“Oh. My. God.” Damian’s jaw drops when he sees her, and she smiles self-consciously. “Do a spin. Oh my God! Darling, you look amazing.”

 

“Thanks, so do you,” Cady compliments him, and he does. He sort of went overboard with the eye makeup. He basically just looks like JD if he never slept. Otherwise his costume is on point, and he seems proud of himself.

 

“Okay, freaks, I’m gonna go get ready,” Janis tells them as they make themselves comfortable on the basement sofa. Ollie is sleeping on her sketchpad when she reenters her room, and gently moves him off of it. It’s still open on the page she had started two days ago, and she grins at the half-finished drawing of two girls who look inexplicably like herself and Cady. She puts it in her backpack then goes to don her costume.

 

“Not too bad, Sarkisian,” she mutters under her breath, admiring the outfit in her bathroom mirror. She’s just glad the jacket fits and that she had a pair of flesh-colored tights to pair with her school skirt. All that’s left to do is her hair, and she sits for a minute Googling tutorials and pictures of Veronica in the movie for reference.

 

She must be taking a while, because Cady appears to check on her. “Hey.”

 

“Heyo. Sorry, we’ll leave soon, I’m just—trying to figure out the hair situation,” Janis admits, scrolling faster.

 

“I can help,” Cady offers kindly. “I mean, my mom did my hair, but I can try.”

 

Janis snickers and shows her a picture. “I wanna try to get as close as possible to this.”

 

Cady glances at the curling iron that’s already heating. “Okey dokey,” she agrees. Janis isn’t sure why, but that’s incredibly endearing.

 

They talk as Cady carefully wraps pieces of Janis’s hair around the iron, gently curling them. When Cady falls quiet, Janis takes the opportunity to ask, hesitantly, “So, your mom helped you?” She wonders if they resolved whatever set off Cady’s meltdown the other day.

 

“Yeah,” Cady responds, and Janis is afraid to look at her face. “I mean, I didn’t brush my hair because I wanted maximum frizz. This is just hairspray, for the most part. But she wanted it to look perfect. Naturally.”

 

“I think you look good,” Janis tells her softly, and Cady grins, maybe even blushing a tad.

 

Janis can’t bring herself to pry, unwilling to ruin the mood. She wants Cady to have fun this weekend despite whatever’s happening at home.

 

Janis is pleasantly surprised with how nice her hair turns out. She covers her face when Cady goes a little wild with the setting spray so the “floofy” (Cady’s word) curls stay looking just right all day. Cady keeps her company as she applies a bit of makeup, but her already pink cheeks don’t need much modifying.

 

Cady claps and squeals when Janis is done. “Well, hello, Veronica,” she sings, and Janis laughs.

 

“What’s your damage, Heather?” Janis taps Cady on the nose. “Okay, come on. Let’s go take selfies for thirty minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Being in the city both exhilarates and terrifies Janis. The haunted houses are set up at a festival in a park, and the trio link hands as they navigate around the place. Just the smell of fall gives her goosebumps, but holding Cady’s hand full-on makes her shiver.

 

They play every game and activity that’s available, and for a couple hours Janis actually feels like a teenager. A carefree, careless teenager having fun with her best friends in their custom _Heathers_ costumes. Nothing else matters. Janis loves this feeling. She wants it to last. She wishes she always felt like this. No drama, no Regina, no Cady’s suppressed vendetta against the Plastics, no issues with her dad having a girlfriend—just dumb, worry-free teenagers having fun.

 

The haunted houses are everything Janis was hoping for, mostly because Cady screams and hugs her whenever something jumps out at them. Janis will hug her back in a protective-partner kind of way before remembering they aren’t together and taking her hand instead. Her heart is racing more from how often Cady touches her than the shit they see in the haunted houses. Damian’s screams are still the loudest.

 

“Oh my God, I think I peed myself,” Cady squeaks as they’re leaving the last one, and Janis laughs.

 

“At least it’ll match your outfit,” she teases, earning a playful slap to the arm.

 

They actually receive plenty of compliments on their costumes, but Janis thinks people only realize who they are because of Damian. It’s nice to hear regardless, though it’s a bit nauseating when guys glance at her and Cady’s faces or legs for too long. She grips Cady’s hand tighter, glad she didn’t buy that original skirt.

 

It only seems fitting for Satan herself to appear at a Halloween-themed festival, but Janis hadn’t even considered it because Regina didn’t used to care for this stuff. If she’s not at a party being the center of attention, she doesn’t want to go out and have fun like Janis is doing. But Janis spots her platinum blonde head from fifty feet away, and it startles her even more than the actors they just faced in the haunted houses.

 

“Gah! Red alert, red alert,” Janis hisses, turning around and pulling Cady away, seizing Damian’s elbow.

 

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” he demands around a mouthful of caramel apple.

 

“Regina,” Janis says stiffly, finding refuge behind a display. Cady peeks around the corner in Regina’s direction and gasps.

 

“I thought she didn’t like going out for Halloween,” she says, offended.

 

“I thought so, too,” Janis mumbles, folding her arms. She wonders how Damian can keep eating at a time like this.

 

“First it’s the mall and now it’s a wholesome family-oriented Halloween bash,” Damian gripes. “Oh, and Aaron’s with her. He’s not wearing a costume. Oh, she isn’t either. It doesn’t look like Gretchen or Karen are with them… Oh, wait, no, I see Gretchen, nevermind. She straightened her hair, I got confused.”

 

“Jesus,” Cady whispers, and casts concerned eyes towards Janis. “You okay?”

 

Janis shrugs, unsure what to think. “I dunno. Why can’t we go anywhere without her showing up?”

 

“Because she’s the devil, Jan,” Damian sighs sympathetically.

 

Janis checks her watch. Damian’s mom will be around to pick them up in forty-five minutes, and they’re supposed to go mess around in Target for a while as she runs some errands before taking them back to Janis’s place. Janis wants to go home right now.

 

Cady’s gently unfolding her arms so she can link their fingers. “We can avoid her,” she murmurs. “But we can’t let her ruin tonight.”

 

Janis sighs, looking up at the darkening sky. “I wish it were that simple, Caddy.”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic. We can’t let her dictate our lives outside of school,” Cady retorts, and Janis is stunned by her tone. “We’re allowed to be here. Just like she is, sadly, but we can’t just…run away every time we see her. That’s what she wants. She wants to always have control.”

 

Janis knows she’s right, but isn’t prepared to bump into Regina. “I know, but I just don’t wanna deal with her right now. And I’m not gonna be able to keep enjoying myself if I know there’s a chance she could see us. So, yeah, we _could_ avoid her, but we could also wind up seeing her anyway, and then it all goes to shit.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Cady tries to soothe, attempting to stay positive.

 

“No, Caddy, I do know,” Janis fires back, tugging her hand away. “I know what will happen if she sees us and it won’t be pretty. Whatever it is, it’ll suck, and I don’t want her to taint this more than she already has just by showing up. Okay? I’m not risking it.”

 

Damian slowly chews his apple, caught in the middle yet again. The girls stare at each other—Janis firmly, Cady pleading—until Cady’s shoulders slump. “Fine,” she mutters irritably, and Janis would feel guilty if she wasn’t positive Regina and Gretchen would make a scene and embarrass them.

 

Damian texts his mom telling her they’re ready to leave early, and they make their way back to the street to wait. Cady looks sullenly down at her feet. She strongly reminds Janis of Gretchen when she doesn’t get her way, but Janis shakes her head to clear the memory.

 

If Janis is being honest with herself, there’s a lot of things Cady does that remind her of the Plastics. She just can’t dwell on it too much or else she’ll lose her mind. And she can’t not be friends with her—she loves Cady more than anything, even if they seem to be butting heads a lot more recently. Cady’s her best friend, even with all her quirks and her flaws and the things that annoy Janis to no end.

 

But Cady could be a Plastic if she wanted to; she’d fit right in with them if she had taken Regina’s offer. Maybe she isn’t a bully but she’s definitely capable of some shady stuff. She’s argumentative and stubborn, and wants to rebel against authority. But she’d fall in line for Regina to reap the benefits of being a Plastic. Perhaps she’d even tear Regina down to take her place. Regina has been at the top of the ladder since her birth but Cady could come along and shake it until Regina tumbled to the ground, climbing to the top instead.

 

Cady reminds Janis of Regina more than she originally thought. Behind the kindness and the pretty eyes and the dorky sense of humor, someone easily corruptible waits in Cady’s heart. The gag is that Regina’s never going to get too close to corrupt her. Cady will damage her soul all on her own if she isn’t careful.

 

* * *

 

After their humorous Target trip, Damian’s mother drops them off at Janis’s house so they can watch one of the movies on Janis’s list. They treated themselves to candy so they have snacks, but Janis deliberately sits on Damian’s right instead of next to Cady. Cady looks a bit wounded, but Janis doesn’t care. Both of them made valid points at the festival, but Janis is mostly annoyed because of the unsettling realization she had in the car.

 

They watch _The Shining_ and eat their candy til their stomachs hurt. Janis is aware Cady keeps glancing at her, but fixes her eyes on the TV. She thinks about the other day and how desperately Cady clung to her, how hard she cried into Janis’s shoulder. Putting makeup on Cady’s face, that weirdly intense look they shared after. Janis still has no clue where that came from. It was different than all the other times she’s vaguely wanted to kiss Cady. Like Cady felt it, too.

 

Janis doesn’t _enjoy_ being mad at Cady. She hates it. It feels wrong. She wants things to be normal and happy. But that is an unrealistic expectation to have for a friend who seems insistent on pushing every single one of Janis’s buttons, intentionally or not.

 

Damian gets up to pee when the movie ends, which is what Janis was dreading. He disappears up the steps, leaving the girls alone. Janis doesn’t feel like talking or arguing but she’ll let Cady chatter if she has something to say. She usually does.

 

“I get why you wanted to leave,” she says quietly after a moment. “It makes sense. Sorry I tried to push it.”

 

“It’s fine. That’s not why I’m frustrated, though,” Janis admits, picking at a loose thread on her skirt.

 

Cady’s brow furrows, angling her body towards Janis. “What else did I do?” she inquires apprehensively.

 

Janis huffs softly. “You just… Nothing, really. You’re just so damn stubborn, Caddy. Everything is a dispute. You can’t just say _okay_ and move on, you have to fight it because you want to be right all the time. You wanna get revenge on Regina even though I keep telling you it’s a bad idea. You wanna go to Karen’s party even though she could show up and something bad could happen. You wanna stick around the festival because we have to be the bigger people. You know I don’t care, right? You know I’m not gonna forgive her or tolerate her just because it might be ‘mature?’ I don’t give a shit about being mature, I’m trying to protect myself.”

 

That settles like dust, and Cady looks shocked. Janis swipes at her eyes.

 

“So,” she says with a shrug, “y’know, go to Karen’s stupid party. If Regina isn’t there and you have a good time, good for you. But you can’t just…ignore my feelings about it or all the warnings I’ve been giving you. Obviously you can make your own choices, but that doesn’t mean I have to support them. I have bad blood with the Plastics, and at first I thought that would be enough to keep you from messing with them, but you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

 

Cady exhales slowly, visibly trying to stay calm. “Janis, I haven’t _done_ anything—”

 

“No, but you’re going to,” Janis yells. “You’re going to her party. You wanted to stay earlier. And you can’t tell me you don’t still want to ruin Regina’s life. I know you do. But you haven’t tried anything yet because you know you shouldn’t. I don’t just want _you_ to not get hurt, because you will, but I don’t want that need for revenge to take over. It’ll change you, Caddy. You can tell yourself it’s for the right reasons, but ultimately you’re gonna end up just like Regina. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

“I am _not_ going to be like her,” Cady protests, her eyes wet with tears. She stands from the couch, infuriated. “And I haven’t tried anything yet because I respect you! You’re always telling me not to get involved with her, so I’m not going to. I listen, don’t I?”

 

“Selectively,” Janis snaps. “You hear what you wanna hear. And you know I’d kick your ass if you did something to Regina, because whatever you do will fall back on me.”

 

Cady starts to say something, then thinks better of it. Janis raises her eyebrows tauntingly, wanting her to let it out. But Cady clamps her mouth shut and glares at her, then grabs her phone and storms out of the basement, slamming the door behind her. Janis then buries her face in a pillow and screams.


	13. pt 2: ch 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end of part 2, lads
> 
>  **CH13 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  d slur  
> lesbophobia

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### thirteen

 

 

 

The highlight of Cady’s day was noticing what Janis was drawing in the auditorium. The outline of two girls, one tall, one short, holding hands. Cady thinks about that as she walks home, moving deliberately slow in case her mother is waiting for her.

 

She’d rather die than face her, but she’s probably already in enough trouble and running away isn’t going to help her cause.

 

Blessedly, both her parents are at work, so Cady still has time to mentally prepare for whatever’s going to happen later. There’s a note taped to the fridge from her mom, to her surprise. She makes a face as she distrustfully tears it off. _Cady—_ it says. _Text me when you get home. I love you._

 

Cady chews the inside of her cheek, flexing her fingers in agitation. She could just not message her out of spite, but really doesn’t want the police to show up at her door. It takes effort, but she opens her texts and merely sends the house emoji.

 

Busy working, her mom doesn’t reply, and that makes Cady laugh. You’d think her mom would have her phone in her scrubs at all times.

 

Wilson follows Cady upstairs to her room, where she falls face first onto her bed, uncaring if she gets makeup on her covers. The plush darkness is comforting. Like earlier, when she was sobbing like a pathetic baby into Janis’s shoulder. Jesus, that’s freaking embarrassing.

 

Janis was really sweet about it, though. Cady didn’t doubt she would be, but she still feels bad for breaking down on her like that. Not that she could’ve helped it—having a good long crying session over her mom was bound to happen sometime. There was no better person to hold her through it. Cady is especially grateful for the makeup; she wouldn’t know what to do if people poked fun at her red-rimmed eyes.

 

Janis would’ve punched them without hesitation, Cady is sure of it.

 

Cady loves Janis so much, it leaves her breathless sometimes. Not even in just her weak-knee crush kind of way, but she truly loves her as a person, and appreciates their friendship. Janis has a good heart. Cady needs people with good hearts, because she’s not always so sure about her own.

 

* * *

 

“Cady?” her mother speaks through the door, knocking gently.

 

Cady bolts upright, startled from sleep. The room spins and she lets herself fall onto her back, dizzy. The sun has gone down and the only light comes from her alarm clock. Cady’s mom knocks again, and she bites her tongue before saying, “Yeah, come in.”

 

The door creaks open and Mrs. Heron slips in, shutting it behind her. She kicks off her shoes before climbing onto Cady’s bed, motioning for her to scoot over. Cady moves with great reluctance, and Mrs. Heron lays down beside her, crossing her ankles the same way Cady’s are.

 

She sighs, and Cady can’t look at her. She stares up at her ceiling, admiring the glowing stars she’s had since she was a baby.

 

“I’m sorry you feel like I’m…suffocating you,” Mrs. Heron eventually says, methodically, like she’s thought about it. “That’s not my intention. You’re my only child, you’re my daughter and I love you. And I want us to be close, especially now that you’re older. I don’t see you much anymore. I went back to work so I could have something to do while you’re at school. I’d go utterly crazy alone in this house without you.”

 

“That’s your fault, though,” Cady counters. “Maybe if you’d allowed me my independence years ago, your anxiety wouldn’t be so bad. I like going to school and hanging out with my friends, and I’m glad you let me do that. But I shouldn’t have had to beg you to quit homeschooling me. And I shouldn’t be so worried about getting bad grades and disappointing you. You expect straight A’s. Not a single fault is allowed, because that falls back on you, doesn’t it? You homeschooled me my whole life only for me to get a B or an A minus on an English quiz. And that would make you feel inferior. It’s not about me, Mom. You’d be disappointed in yourself.”

 

It’s like even more facts are occurring to Cady as she voices them. She’s terrified to say it, but not remorseful once she has.

 

“So whatever made you so controlling and panicky over me, that’s your problem,” she adds derisively. “But you can’t act like you aren’t aware of yourself. You can’t look me in the eye and say you’ve never once wondered if maybe you’re too overbearing.”

 

“I haven’t,” her mother whispers, and her voice is ragged. Cady closes her eyes and inhales through her nose.

 

“You’re lying,” she responds, barely above a whisper herself. “Don’t lie.”

 

“Damn it, Cady, I’m not.” Mrs. Heron sits up, wiping tears from her cheek. “If I’d ever doubted my parenting, I would’ve done something to make it better.”

 

“So you admit you could be better?” Cady sits, too, wanting to watch her face. “You admit you’ve fucked up? My entire life, you admit you’ve been in control my entire life? I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you kept me from school because you couldn’t control what went on there. Tell me you didn’t like letting me visit friends because you couldn’t have a say in what we did. Tell me you still grade my work because you want to be sure I’m still smart enough. Tell me you play the victim to make me feel bad for you if I’m getting upset over something you did. Tell me you don’t care about my feelings.”

 

“ _I care,_ ” Mrs. Heron growls, tears trickling from her eyes. Cady forces herself to maintain eye contact, to not feel bad. All she feels is anger—it aches, hot and red within her chest.

 

“I care, that’s why I homeschooled you. Because I wanted you to do your best, to be the smart girl I know you are. I care, Cady. I’m your mom, it’s my job. And before you say it’s my job to ‘mistreat’ you—I haven’t mistreated you. Perhaps I’ve been overbearing, like you said—”

 

“Perhaps?” Cady yells. “No, Mom, there’s no ‘perhaps.’ There’s no maybe’s, or what-if’s, or but’s. You can’t worm your way out of this. This, right now? This is the reality of your actions. This is ten years’ worth of pent-up frustration, and confusion about why you’re such an anxiety-ridden control freak. Wanna know why I’ve never brought it up? Because I thought it was normal. I didn’t know it’s not normal for your mother to be so overtly involved in your life that you feel trapped in a cage. It wasn’t until I began going to actual school and _met people who understand me_ that I really grasped how fucking weird it is for you to treat me like a baby.”

 

Cady sinks back on her bed, suddenly feeling like she can’t breathe. She’s running out of words to explain her point of view. She just hopes what she’s saying gets through to her mother somehow. This is a fight she’s unknowingly been waiting for. Courage is going into battle uncertain if she’ll win.

 

Mrs. Heron licks the tears from her lips and unfolds her legs, standing from the bed. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she sniffs, retrieving her shoes. “But I’m a good mom. I’ve been good to you. So don’t sit there and act like I’m a total monster, Cady.”

 

“I never said you were,” Cady answers resiliently. “But it’s interesting how you assume I think you are.”

 

They glare at each other for a long, agonizing moment. Mrs. Heron seems older, like the wrinkles on her forehead and lines around her eyes appeared just now. She turns, effectively ending the conversation, and leaves without another word.

 

* * *

 

Cady and her mother don’t speak for two days. Cady is aware how unusual and immature that is—for her mother. Her father relays messages, and Cady eats dinner at her desk while she does her homework or watches something on her computer. At school on Thursday and Friday, she acts like everything is fine.

 

Her dad drives her to Janis’s house on Saturday. It’s awkward and quiet, and Cady knows why. Poor guy is caught in the middle, similar to Damian during any of Cady and Janis’s fights. He wants to support his wife but also be there for his daughter.

 

Cady doesn’t need anything from him. Honestly, their relationship isn’t all that developed because Mrs. Heron has hoarded Cady for herself her whole life. He’s a good man and a good father, and Cady knows she could tell him how she felt without him rushing to judgment. But she isn’t in the mood to be lectured or forced to sympathize with her mother. If anything, her dad should be sympathizing with Cady. Mrs. Heron doesn’t just act up around her.

 

He stops in front of Janis’s driveway, and Cady senses he’s going to say something. Hand on the door, she waits for him to get it done and over with. He raises his eyes to her face and says gently, “I know your mom can be a handful. Believe me, I know. But I married her. And she’s your mother. So you gotta work this through.”

 

“I’m trying, Dad,” Cady whispers, and pops open the door. “Waiting for her to try, too.”

 

She shuts the door and waves halfway down the driveway. He waves back, and his smile is sad.

 

Her friends are happy to see her, at least. They love her costume, too, and that’s all that matters to her. When she goes upstairs to see if Janis is okay, she offers to help do her hair, lying through her teeth when she mentions her mom helped with hers.

 

She doesn’t want her friends to know how bad it is. Sure, she and Janis may have had their argument last month, and Cady might have spilled her guts, but she doesn’t feel like mentioning the latest installment in this ongoing saga. Janis is none the wiser, and Cady is glad she doesn’t have to talk about it.

 

The three of them take tons of pictures while they wait for Damian’s mom to pick them up, and Cady is in love with the one of her and Janis grinning at each other like they were alone. Janis is starting to laugh at something Damian had said right before he took the photo, eyes crinkling at the corners. Cady loves those crinkles. Sometimes she wants to stand on her tiptoes and kiss them. Which is probably very weird and too specific.

 

Their evening at the festival is amazing, and maybe Cady pretends to be more freaked out than she really is as an excuse to get protective hugs from Janis. She hasn’t had much memorable fun on Halloween before, and it’s definitely a day to remember.

 

Especially the part where Regina and Gretchen show up, which means it’s the end of the world, according to Janis.

 

Cady understands her hesitation to stay if there’s a chance they could run into them, but is firm in her belief that sometimes you have to just push on through and not let the negativity ruin your day. Which is actually easier said than done, and Janis is ultimately too nervous to stay, so they have to leave.

 

Truthfully, Cady is annoyed. She didn’t want their fun to be cut short just because of Regina, who she seriously doubts would try any bullshit in public, with security around. But Janis didn’t think the same, obviously, so Damian texts his mom. Cady and Janis don’t speak until they get to Target, where they amble around the aisles and take silly videos of each other and Damian while Ms. Hubbard gets some shopping done.

 

Later they wind back up on Janis’s basement couch, and Cady is hurt when Janis deliberately sits next to Damian rather than making him move over. Her mind wanders all over the place during the movie, thinking back on the arguments they’ve had and how they’ve mended them, remembering waking up beside Janis in September, how kind Janis was to take care of her in the bathroom on Wednesday. Cady’s heart aches with both affection and annoyance, trying to find balance between the two.

 

Strangely, it reminds her of how she feels about her mom. When she’s mad at her, she still loves her. She doesn’t just stop loving the good things about her mother when it gets rough. Same thing goes for her and Janis. She doesn’t love Janis any less when they’re mad at each other.

 

Tonight feels different, though. Like Janis doesn’t share that line of thinking. Which could just be Cady’s anxiety talking, but still. It wouldn’t surprise her if Janis meant more to her than she does to Janis—that would happen to Cady. It’s the universe’s will.

 

As it turns out, the universe’s will is for them to constantly be at each other’s throats about the Plastics.

 

Cady apologizes for pushing it; genuinely, she’s sorry for upsetting Janis, even if she wishes they’d stayed at the festival. But then it all goes downhill the angrier Janis gets and Cady is so startled she doesn’t really know what to say. The entire fight occurs in under five minutes but it happens in such a blur that Cady only recalls the little details once she’s back home. She walks through the suburbs to her house despite it being dark, not thinking about the repercussions of that.

 

Her parents are home, watching something on TV, and her mother calls her name in confusion when the door bursts open then slams. Cady skips up the stairs without any greeting and locks the bathroom door, and she loses herself for a while.

 

* * *

 

Their plans for Sunday obviously fall through. No texts are exchanged all day, and Cady stays in bed with her computer and Wilson. For three more days at school, nothing is said between her and Janis even though they share classes. Not even chemistry can make them talk to each other. Occasionally Damian will catch Cady’s eye in the hall and he’ll give her a gloomy smile. She misses him, too, but it’s clear where his loyalty lies.

 

However, he finds her at her locker after the final bell, and she tentatively looks at him when he greets her. “Hey, Damian.”

 

“Hi, I miss you,” is the first thing he says, and it occurs to Cady he might not have heard her and Janis’s argument. Which means Janis hasn’t told him much. She’s keeping it between her and Cady. But he knows something is wrong. Once again.

 

Cady hugs him tightly after shutting her locker. “I just need time,” she murmurs, and he nods. “I’ll…talk to her tomorrow.”

 

“I’ll tell her,” he vows softly, and she squeezes his hand before walking away. It’s Halloween, and Karen’s party starts at seven. Cady has a few hours to kill at home. She’s less eager to go than she was a week ago, but it’s only because she’s still upset about her quarrel with Janis.

 

The problem isn’t that Janis was wrong. She was right about a lot of things. Cady _is_ argumentative, and stubborn, and hates being confined to other people’s orders. But for Janis to say she’d end up being “just like” Regina… That was cold.

 

Whatever. Karen’s party will be fun and Cady is looking forward to it. Janis can’t keep her from going.

 

“And your friends are gonna be here, too?” Mr. Heron asks as he drives up to Karen’s house several hours later. The Smiths home is decorated with classic Halloween garb out front, and a good amount of people are already here even though it started thirty minutes ago. (Cady wanted to be fashionably late.)

 

“Yeah,” Cady fibs, unclicking her seatbelt. She told her parents Janis and Damian were coming. “And then Damian’s mom can take me and Janis home. I might hang out at her place after, or something. I’ll let you know where I end up. I love you.” She kisses his cheek.

 

“Be safe,” he calls after her. “Don’t leave your drink unattended.”

 

“I won’t, Dad. Thanks. Bye.” She flutters her fingers in goodbye and skips up the front walkway to the porch. Karen is at the door, greeting people, and she looks absolutely delighted to see Cady as she bounds up the brick steps. Cady beams back at her.

 

“You came!” Karen squeals, embracing her. “Oh, you look so cute. Hang on, lemme guess. You’re, um… Hillary Clinton.”

 

Cady snorts. “No. I’m Heather McNamara, from _Heathers_. You’re a…mouse?”

 

Karen’s wearing a grey bikini under a transparent purple slip, a pair of mouse ears on her head. “A _sexy_ mouse,” she corrects, linking their elbows.

 

Cady isn’t entirely sure what she was expecting from a Halloween party, but it’s better than she thought. Despite the fact she isn’t friends with anybody here, she feels like it could be possible for them all to get along, to not receive stares in the hall because she hangs out with “gay Damian” and “art freak dyke” Janis.

 

She catches herself wondering how much differently she would be treated if she wasn’t friends with them.

 

True to Janis’s warning, the party gets an uninvited guest a little over an hour later.

 

“KAREN!” Regina bellows over the music and voices. Karen jumps, splashing the punch she was pouring. Cady turns to see Regina entering the kitchen, pushing past their peers to get to Karen. Cady puts a supportive hand on Karen’s elbow.

 

“You little _sneak_ ,” Regina hisses, taking the cup in Karen’s hands and setting it aside. “You threw a party _without me_?”

 

“I—I thought you didn’t like Halloween,” Karen stammers, wide-eyed.

 

Gretchen cackles dryly. Regina scoffs. “Of course I fucking like Halloween, dumbass,” she sneers, poking Karen in the chest. People are watching. That’s all Regina actually cares about: making a scene and humiliating her friend in front of them. “Did you really think you could get away with this?”

 

“Sort of,” Karen admits in a tiny voice. Well, at least she’s honest.

 

Regina smirks, and her eyes are evil. Just pure evil. Cady’s only seen that look in the eyes of villains on her TV. She tightens her grip on Karen’s arm, prepared to yank her to safety if Regina makes a move, or if Gretchen’s purse starts swinging.

 

Regina sweeps her eyes over Cady, deliberate and criticizing. Cady stands her ground, too late to run now. Regina tilts her head at her, a simpering smile playing along her unfairly beautiful face. Objectively, yes, Regina George is extremely pretty. But Cady is beginning to find her ugly.

 

“Where’s your dyke bitch, Heron?” Regina asks her. “She let you out of her bed long enough so you could come to Karen’s stupid party?”

 

“Does your hair look like that because she messed it up?” Gretchen snickers. People laugh.

 

Cady is so angry, she can’t speak. Her throat closes up, blocking her voice from firing back. She wants to cry, or hide, or throw up.

 

“It’s too bad she’s got you so whipped,” Regina continues, feigning compassion. “But she just can’t help herself. It’s in her nature.”

 

Cady lunges. She doesn’t even know she’s made the decision to do so, but she leaps at Regina, shoving her back against the kitchen counter. Her head hits a cabinet, and she howls in pain. There’s shouting and Karen is seizing Cady’s arms to restrain her.

 

“You fucking _bitch_ ,” Regina shrieks, rubbing her head. Cady lets Karen pull her away, but only partially regrets it.

 

Next thing Cady knows, Gretchen is stealing someone’s drink and tossing it in her face. Cady sputters as fruit punch drips down her cheeks, most of it having gotten on her costume. Not that that matters. People laugh harder. It roars in her ears.

 

“Okay,” she says softly, licking punch from her lips. She tugs herself free from Karen and weaves through the crowd to the nearest bathroom, cleaning her face in a weirdly calm daze. She washes her hands then leaves the house without looking back, vaguely aware Karen is getting screamed at.

 

She walks a couple blocks before pulling out her phone to map her way to Janis’s house. Janis should be the last person she wants to see, but she’s the only person Cady needs right now. Knowing Janis will probably laugh and say _I told you so, dummy_ , she treks through the neighborhoods, passing trick-or-treaters and their parents who give her funny looks. She rips her scrunchie out and combs through her curls to flatten the frizz.

 

It takes twelve minutes, but she makes it to Janis’s house in one piece. She marches down the driveway and doesn’t bother knocking on the basement door before busting through. It’s peculiar, having left with the same amount of force on Saturday, only to show up again wearing the same thing four days later, like no time has passed.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Damian yelps, nearly dropping his popcorn. “Caddy?”

 

“Are you okay?” Janis demands, leaping from the couch to help her. “Jesus, you’re a wreck. Come here, sit down.” She pushes Cady into her dad’s old recliner. Cady hides her face in her hands, starting to feel deeply and irrevocably ashamed.

 

 _If only you had listened to Janis, you absolute fucking moron,_ she chastises herself, and starts to cry.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, she’s tucked between her friends on the couch, wearing one of Janis’s oversized shirts and sleep shorts. They’re a tad too big, but she’s cozy, and she’s glad it’s dark so neither of them can tell she’s blushing at the fact she’s wearing Janis’s clothes.

 

She tells them what happened, and Janis’s face is pinched with concern. Which surprises Cady; she anticipated being teased.

 

“That cunt,” Janis mutters when Cady stops talking. “I’m sorry, Caddy.”

 

Cady shrugs. “I should’ve listened to you, and I didn’t. I just…” She shakes her hand. “You were right. I can’t handle being told what to do.”

 

Damian rubs her arm, and Janis taps her on the nose. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

 

She rummages around the basement for a few minutes. Cady watches in confusion as she goes to pin something to the dartboard on the wall, laughing when she sees it’s a picture of Regina. Younger, but torn in half, Janis presumably being the other. Cady won’t ask why Janis still has it.

 

They each take turns tossing darts at her face, and it actually does make Cady feel better. Apparently it’s cathartic for Janis, because she retrieves the darts to keep going. Cady presses herself against Damian’s side, giving Janis some space.

 

“Stupid fart-mouthed life ruiner,” Janis grunts, throwing one. “Y’know, I think all that hair bleaching is soaking into her brain. Making her crazier than normal.” She laughs. A dart hits Regina’s nose. “Fucking bitch. You did good, Caddy, I’m proud of you. I don’t think anyone’s ever put their hands on her before.”

 

Cady grins awkwardly. “I didn’t mean to,” she confesses. “I just…got mad.”

 

“No, no. You did the right thing. She deserved it.” Another dart in an eye. “Hope it fucking hurt. Hope she has a concussion.” Janis cackles. “You know, she—she kissed me when I came out to her,” she suddenly discloses, breathless. “Yeah. She stole my first kiss.”

 

Damian seems shocked to hear this. That doesn’t sit well with Cady.

 

“Ugly ass, first-kiss-stealer, fake friend _BITCH_ —!” Janis throws the last three darts in succession. She breathes hard, her hands shaking. It’s still and quiet for a long minute as she glares furiously at the ruined photo. Then her hands cover her face, and Cady goes to her, and she falls apart in her arms.


	14. pt 3: ch 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part three, y’all!!!
> 
>  **CH14 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  sexual harassment  
> abuse mention

 

 

#  **PART THREE: NOVEMBER**

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### fourteen

 

 

 

Janis’s biggest secret used to be her sexuality. She harbored it inside her for a while, then decided to tell Regina. Because she thought Regina truly cared. She thought she could trust Regina. Not just to keep the secret—but treat her like a human being afterward.

 

How silly of Janis to think, even for a second, she would suddenly stop being Regina’s toy. Coming out didn’t help her cause. It made it worse.

 

If anyone ever asked, Janis would say Regina George tastes like bubblegum.

 

Her head is in Cady’s lap. She’s on the couch, quilt draped over her shivering body. She can’t stop crying. She’s been crying for almost an hour. Her stomach hurts. All that keeps replaying in her head is Regina, Regina, Regina. _I like girls, I guess,_ she’d whispered, then kissed Janis.

 

Janis hardly kissed her back. Janis didn’t do anything but let it happen.

 

And now there’s an emptiness in her that Regina carved out. It started with the kiss. Janis feels like it hasn’t actually stopped.

 

That’s the point, though. It was never supposed to stop, even after their friendship did.

 

* * *

 

Janis hates November. Next to March, it’s her least favorite month.

 

She wakes up freezing, mere minutes before her alarm is set to go off, and pulls her blankets closer. Pale light filters through her window. She stares at the wall, waiting for her alarm, debating over whether or not she should even go to school today.

 

Her body doesn’t feel like her own, more so than usual. She sits in the back of her dad’s car, wanting to avoid worried looks as he drives her to school.

 

She wishes she’d thrown up this morning. She’s aware Cady keeps glancing at her during homeroom, and avoids both her and Damian as long as she can. She knows she and Cady need to talk more in depth about their fight, but just doesn’t have the energy, or even the will to care.

 

At one point, in the hallway, some senior guy steps in her path, and she avoids eye contact. “Heard you and the new girl are hooking up,” he leers down at her, and her jaw drops. “That must be pretty hot. How often do you fuck? Can I join you next time?”

 

His friends crack up and Janis hurries away with flaming cheeks. Trying to stamp out rumors is about as easy as singlehandedly putting out forest fires.

 

Janis is jumpy and on edge the rest of the day, skipping gym to hide in the auditorium again until lunch. She goes to continue her sketch of the two girls, but she’s too jittery to hold her pencils, so she gives up. She rubs her temples to ward off a migraine, wishing she were dead or something.

 

It only seems fitting for Cady to come looking for her. She sits down backwards in the seat across from Janis so they can look at each other. “Hi,” she says softly, and Janis feels a tug in her heart at the gentle sound of her voice for some reason.

 

“Hi,” she answers glumly, with a halfhearted wave. Cady reaches out to take her hand, and Janis keeps them linked.

 

“So,” Cady says after a pause. “Um, I wanted to say that, uh…you were right. I’ve thought a lot about what you said—the other day,” she clarifies when Janis looks puzzled. “And, um…yeah. I am stubborn. And I hate being told what to do, which makes me wanna rebel even more. But I have to put your feelings into consideration. And you were right—something did happen at Karen’s party, and I got punch dumped on me, and now Regina’s telling people I’m a rage-fueled freak who attacked her without reason, so that’s fun.” She rolls her eyes. “But that’s my fault, because I didn’t listen to you. It’s funny, because I really only happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, since Regina only showed up to yell at Karen for not inviting her. And I happened to be talking to Karen.”

 

Janis frowns. “Wait, but what made you attack Regina? What’d she do?”

 

Cady shakes her head. “I don’t wanna repeat it.” _Translation: she said something about you._

 

Janis isn’t sure how that makes her feel, Cady invoking violence in her defense.

 

“So. Yeah.” Cady shrugs and scratches her neck. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. And I—I respect you a lot, Janis.”

 

Janis squeezes her hand, unable to look her in the eye. “Thanks, Caddy.”

 

She doesn’t expect the peace to last. Something will happen and it’ll set Cady off, and there’ll be no stopping her after that. She’s like a ticking time bomb, and at this point, Janis is waiting for her to explode. Cady can say one thing but what she winds up doing is another. At least Regina was forthcoming with her plans.

 

But then again, Regina never respected Janis the way Cady thinks she does. She flat out denied Janis of her dignity for six years. Janis is sure Cady respects her on some level, but Janis still senses it isn’t enough. She’ll never be worth people’s genuine respect.

 

Regina made sure she’d never think too highly of herself. It worked.

 

* * *

 

“You look so sad _all the time_ ,” Regina lamented, plucking at pieces of Janis’s hair, wondering what to do with it. “So I’m gonna give you a makeover so you can feel pretty. I like feeling pretty when I’m sad. It reminds me I’m better than whatever made me sad in the first place.”

 

“Thanks, Regina,” Janis murmured shyly, sitting up straight as Regina grabbed a brush.

 

Regina combed through Janis’s tangled brown locks til they hung wavy and shiny against her back, and almost instantly Janis felt lighter. “You’d be a gorgeous blonde,” her new friend told her, and she hummed in agreement. “With curls, we’d be twins.”

 

Janis brightened considerably at the idea, and Regina grinned. Since they were only ten and even Mrs. George had her limits, Regina didn’t have a lot of makeup to use on Janis, but made do with the harmless faux makeup kit she’d gotten for Christmas. She painted Janis’s lips and dusted her eyelids sparkly purple and made her cheeks glow rosy pink. Janis didn’t recognize herself in the mirror when Regina finished, and she was actually glad. She didn’t like how she looked before.

 

It was their first playdate at Regina’s house, a week after they met. Regina found Janis crying at school and befriended her, and invited her over to her house that weekend so Janis could take her mind off what was going on at home. In the afternoon she spent at Regina’s, her mind never once strayed to her dead mother or the brutal image of her lying in the bathtub. It was still so fresh in her mind, and Regina snuffed it out, just like that.

 

During Thanksgiving break, and later during the entire months of December and January that she was granted off from school, she spent every second with Regina. Regina was fun and her house was big and cool and she had a hot tub. Her mom made the best snacks. They had an indoor movie theater. Regina let Janis borrow her outfits. The two quickly became inseparable. Nothing could’ve ripped them apart.

 

If you had warned ten-year-old Janis that becoming friends with Regina George would ruin her life, she wouldn’t have believed you. The sad part is that if she did, she would have been friends with her anyway. Because Regina offered solace in a time when Janis had none. Desperation leads to catastrophe.

 

Maybe there was a time when Regina loved her, before they grew up and she lost her innocence. But there’s a difference between actually being loved and feeling like you are loved. Janis grew up not understanding that difference, and Regina merely reinforced it.

 

Janis didn’t know who to be without Regina and as a child it comforted her to know she had someone to rely on. Someone to tell her how to dress, how to act. It was almost like Regina was filling in where Janis’s mother could not. Janis needed somebody who could maneuver her life in the right direction, and she found that in Regina for a time. It never occurred to her that Regina’s behavior—the belittling, the blatant harassment, the physical abuse as they got older, the subtle and not-so-subtle manipulation—was a damaging aspect of Janis’s life and emotional wellbeing. Regina was her friend, she cared about her. She only ever wanted what was best for Janis.

 

So Janis never asked herself, “What if what’s best for me is not being Regina’s friend?” Because Regina convinced her that it was. She’d have nobody if Regina wasn’t her friend. Everyone would turn on her and laugh at her and she’d be a loser again. Regina was her person as much as she was Regina’s, except Regina saw her as an object she owned and not the friend she pretended to love to benefit herself.

 

Janis will probably never fully understand why Regina is the way she is. She just wants to know if Regina ever felt anything, too.

 

* * *

 

Damian treats Janis to ice cream after school, not having told Cady where they were going. Janis is relieved, happy to spend time with someone who isn’t going to fight her about trivial Plastic nonsense. She’s glad she and Cady made up, but needs a break from the girl in general.

 

“That’s okay, right?” she asks him as she digs her spoon into her sundae. “Like, is it bad that I don’t feel like hanging out with her right now?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Ms. Hubbard chimes in kindly, sitting across from them. “It’s actually pretty mature of you to admit that to yourself.”

 

Damian nods. He already has sprinkles on his face. “Yeah. I mean, it makes sense. Things are tense for you guys right now.”

 

Janis sighs, chin in her hand. “It’s weird. I miss her, but I’m also…glad she isn’t here.”

 

“And that’s okay,” Ms. Hubbard reiterates. “We all need breaks from our friends.”

 

Janis knows she’s right, but feels bad anyway. Cady isn’t going to find out, but she worries if she’d be offended if she did. It reminds her of the rare times when she wouldn’t hang out with Regina—when she’d see a movie with her dad instead or told Regina she wasn’t feeling well to get out of seeing her. She felt enormously guilty, but having a day to herself was ultimately always good for her. It’s like she never realized how much pressure she was constantly under around Regina until she could just be alone and not worry about what she was wearing or what she felt like doing. Or feeling. Or thinking.

 

Janis wonders, vaguely, if that’s how Cady feels when she gets a break from her mother, and she understands a bit more.

 

She goes home with Damian and they get comfortable in his small living room to do their homework. Things with Damian are so painfully easy, it amazes her. All he wants, all he expects from her is her friendship. There are no impossibly high standards she’s hurting herself trying to meet, there’s no weird anxiety-filled subtext. He’s just the kid who almost appeared out of thin air and took her under his wing. Damian is everything Janis could want in a friend. He’s funny and sweet and just wants to make the world, and the people in it, less miserable—Janis is one of the lucky few.

 

Janis is a firm believer in people’s identities being the same even in parallel or alternate realities, so she knows there isn’t a world where they’re in love. But there is always a universe where Damian finds her, and maybe that makes him her soulmate anyway. If any guy was meant to be her soulmate, she’s happy it’s him.

 

“On a scale of one to ten, how much do you genuinely like Caddy?” Janis inquires later out of curiosity.

 

“A billion,” he answers, without a hint of sarcasm. When Damian loves, he loves hard.

 

“I mean, do you feel like you’re really friends with her?” Janis persists. “Would you hang with just her like you and me do?”

 

“Of course I would,” he says. He’s sitting on his bedroom floor folding a basket of laundry. That’s something they have in common: they actually like putting away laundry. “I don’t get a lot of opportunities because we always hang out together, but if she wanted to and you couldn’t be there, yeah.”

 

“I’m still your best-best friend, though, right?” Janis asks, batting her eyelashes.

 

He _tsks_ and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Darling. No one could replace you. I could have a million friends and none would be as amazing as you.”

 

Janis hums contentedly. That warms her heart. “Thanks. You’re alright, I guess.”

 

She shoots finger guns at him with a cheesy wink and he snorts himself silly with laughter. Honestly, Damian’s laugh is the best thing ever, next to his singing voice. He has the boldest yet most angelic voice Janis has ever heard. He’ll make it to Broadway one day, she’s sure of it.

 

They discuss their future careers while lying on his bed, Janis bouncing a ball off the wall. She seriously doesn’t know what the hell she wants to do with her life. Existing on a day by day basis is stressful enough. She supposes she’ll end up in the art world somehow, but she doesn’t think her art is particularly good.

 

“Oh, gimme a break,” Damian argues, scoffing. “Your art is great. Your Ollie painting wouldn’t have been accepted if it wasn’t.”

 

Truthfully, Janis completely forgot about the art show. “That’s one good one out of many others that suck.”

 

“What about the one of Cady you were working on a month ago?” he reminds her. “Did you ever finish that one? What about the one of you and her you started? I love that one, you need to finish it.” He pokes her thigh. “Finish it, Jan, or I’ll make you.”

 

Janis sticks her tongue out at him. “Yes, I finished the one of Caddy. And I _am_ gonna finish that, geez. And you don’t even know if it’s us.”

 

“Dear, you might not be drawing their faces, but it’s very clearly you and Cady.”

 

“I’m the artist. I say who it’s about. And it’s not about us. So there.”

 

She folds her arms, tossing the ball to him. He discards it on the floor then props himself up on his elbow, chin in his palm. “On a scale of one to a hundred, how in love with Cady Heron are you?” he asks, totally out of the blue, and Janis gawks at him.

 

“ _Zero_ ,” Janis sputters, maybe a tad too fast. “I’m not in love with Caddy.”

 

Damian smiles, eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. You don’t see the way you look at her when she isn’t paying attention.”

 

“I’m a lesbian, I can admire a pretty girl without being in love with her,” Janis protests, though her heart is inexplicably racing. She does find Cady exceptionally attractive but she isn’t going to _tell_ him that. “Yeah, I think Caddy’s cute. Would I date her? No. We’re friends. Plus she’s straight.”

 

“We don’t know that,” Damian points out, and he’s right. Cady’s never mentioned her sexuality, straight or not. “And don’t say she would’ve told us by now, because people come out when they’re ready regardless of if their friends are gay, too.”

 

“Yeah, well. I don’t get a vibe from her.” Janis stares at the ceiling, aware of how unconvincing she sounds.

 

That sends Damian into another laughing fit. “You’re such an awful liar, Jan,” he cackles.

 

“Shut the fuck up. Why are we even talking about this? It’s none of our business,” Janis mumbles.

 

“It is if she likes you back,” Damian counters, rather smugly.

 

“ _I don’t like Caddy_ , not like that!” She grabs his pillow and smacks him with it.

 

“Okay, okay! Listen. Hypothetically, say she likes girls,” Damian begins, holding up a finger. “And say she liked you, and say you liked her. Would you date her?”

 

Janis regrets hesitating, because his eyes light up. “No! No, no, I wouldn’t,” she yells, but he’s already sitting up on his knees and bouncing, shaking the bed. “God, you are so obnoxious. Caddy and I won’t ever be a thing, so don’t get your hopes up.”

 

“Too late!” he cheers, clapping euphorically. “Oh, Jan, I have to be your bridesmaid at the wedding. Please.”

 

“Yeah, uh-huh, sure,” Janis mutters, kicking him back down onto the mattress.

 

“ _Whoever_ you marry,” he corrects, but mischievously, “dedicate your speech to me, please.”

 

Janis covers her face with her hands. “I’m not getting married. Marriage is a sham. I won’t even do it as a radical statement if homophobia is still a thing by then. I can have a wife but, like, not legally. Because weddings are expensive. And you’d embarrass me by break-dancing during the reception.”

 

“I so would,” Damian agrees good-naturedly. “Okay, well, _I’m_ definitely getting married.”

 

“Good for you, buddy,” Janis says, bumping her foot to his. “Let the Lord be with your future husband.”

 

Damian giggles, finding that ridiculously funny. “Honey, Jesus abandoned me years ago. I think he took off with my dad.”

 

Janis laughs so hard she cries. Even when Damian’s laughter tapers off, Janis is still howling.

 

* * *

 

Janis is in a good mood for the first time in a while, but naturally there’s always something out there that doesn’t want her to be happy.

 

She comes home, not prepared in the slightest, and walks in through the basement only to find her father on the couch, his arm around a plump blonde woman’s shoulders. At first they don’t realize she’s there, murmuring quietly as they watch a movie, an empty bowl of popcorn between them.

 

Janis is about to turn around and go back outside, but then her father senses her presence and looks over. “Oh!” he exclaims, and rushes to pause the movie. Janis cannot move her legs; it’s like the shock of it all nailed her feet to the floor.

 

“Hey, come here,” he coaxes, standing and gesturing for her to walk over. It takes effort, and her feet feel like there’s bricks tied to her ankles, but she gets there, taking her time just to delay the inevitable. Abby stands up, looking as shy and awkward as Janis feels. She looks younger than Mr. Sarkisian (mercifully not by much) with a soft, kind face. It strikes Janis as maternal, which wasn’t what she was expecting. It jars her a little. Or a lot.

 

“Uh, Janis, this is Abby,” Mr. Sarkisian is saying as the two size each other up. “Abby, this is my daughter, Janis.”

 

Abby steps forward and offers her hand, and Janis doesn’t hesitate to take it, mostly because she isn’t going to disappoint her dad. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Janis,” Abby says, and Janis is shaken by how weirdly similar her voice is to her mom’s.

 

“It’s—nice to meet you, too,” she replies timidly, hoping her smile doesn’t look too fractured.

 

“You have fun with your friends?” Mr. Sarkisian asks her, trying to keep things normal and casual, and she nods.

 

“Yeah. Damian and I got ice cream. And we did our homework. So.” Janis shrugs. “What movie are you watching? And…why down here?”

 

He should know this is her space. Maybe he wanted it to be cozy and romantic or something.

 

“Uh, _Jaws_ ,” he tells her, and she raises her eyebrows. “It’s Abby’s favorite.”

 

Janis frowns thoughtfully as Abby snickers. “That’s kinda badass,” she approves, and Abby beams. Already Janis wants to please her. Because Abby hasn’t done anything and she seems nice and Janis’s feelings about her dad dating someone are between herself and him.

 

“Okay, kiddos, I’m going to my room,” she announces before an uncomfortable silence can occur. “Enjoy the movie. Don’t do drugs.”

 

She kisses her father on the cheek before hurrying to the steps to retreat to her bedroom. Her heart is pounding and her throat is tight for some reason. That wasn’t as bad as she was anticipating, so she isn’t sure why anxiety is pulsing through her like it’s being injected into every vein through invisible needles.

 

She lays on her bed with Ollie on her stomach for a solid hour. Her mind races as fast as her heart, and it paralyzes her. She stares up at her ceiling, wishing she had stars like Cady’s to glow down at her. A constant, soothing sight for times like this.

 

She closes her eyes and scratches her nails along the top of Ollie’s head, and he purrs. She can’t pinpoint the feeling in her gut. She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad. She’s torn between being happy for her father and wishing their life could stay normal, for just a while longer, until she’s ready to handle this.

 

For the first time in years, Janis misses her mother. Oh. So that’s what this feeling is. It’s old grief, pushing its way back to the surface after being considered buried. With it it’s going to bring the hurt and the confusion and the anger back, too.

 

Janis can handle that even less than she can handle the reality her father has found someone new. That, again, she isn’t enough.


	15. pt 3: ch 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise, more janis!
> 
>  **CH15 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  suicide  
> parent death

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### fifteen

 

 

 

Things are a little weird at breakfast the next morning. Because Abby spent the night, apparently. Janis knows nothing serious happened in her father’s room because she’s not deaf and would’ve heard it, and he wouldn’t traumatize her like that, but still. She comes down the stairs in her uniform and walks the short distance to the kitchen and it startles her when she sees Abby is seated at the table, munching on toast.

 

Abby’s face brightens and she waves at her. “Morning,” she greets. Janis quickly closes her mouth, for it had fallen open.

 

“Hi,” she says tentatively, peering into the kitchen where her dad is frying up her eggs on the stove. “Hey, Dad.”

 

“Oh, hey, pumpkin. Just in time, come and get it.” He shovels her scrambled eggs onto a plate and beams at her when she comes to retrieve it. “Hey, you,” he says quietly, kissing her temple. He drops his voice when he adds, “We had some wine after you went to bed, so I didn’t want her driving.”

 

“I get it,” Janis whispers, grabbing herself a fork. “That was smart.”

 

Abby seems delighted when Janis sits down across from her. Janis notes how Abby is wearing one of her dad’s t-shirts. Half of Janis’s sleep shirts are ones she has stolen from his closet, because she threw out all the satin pajamas Regina bought for her. Seeing someone else don her father’s tees gives her a weird feeling. Not that Janis is in control of him or anything, but she hadn’t realized that was a sensitive subject until now.

 

Mr. Sarkisian joins them a moment later, and Janis is only half-relieved. She doesn’t have to make small talk, but she has to listen to _them_ talk. Instantly she picks up on the sparkly eyes and the shy smiles and she feels like she’s watching a Hallmark movie. She forces herself to finish her eggs even though she’s nauseated.

 

Damian’s mother drives them both to school, and Damian immediately senses something is wrong as soon as Janis climbs into the back seat. “What happened?” he hisses with raised eyebrows, and Janis feels a prickle of irritation. He’s so nosy.

 

Ms. Hubbard turns up the radio so they can whisper without worrying about her eavesdropping. (That’s what makes her the cool mom.) Janis tells Damian everything, but it doesn’t make her feel any better. If anything, she feels worse, and wonders if she could get away with puking at school.

 

“He should’ve told you she was coming over last night,” Damian says, miffed on her behalf.

 

Janis shrugs, picking at her chipped nail polish. “I don’t even care about that. I’m not actually mad, I’m just…undecided on how I feel.”

 

“Well, sure,” Damian agrees, nodding. “I’d be pretty freaked out, too, if my mom had a boyfriend all of a sudden.”

 

Janis sighs, looking out the frosty window. She really wants to throw up but will spare Ms. Hubbard’s upholstery and wait til she’s at school. She knows she can’t resent her father’s girlfriend for just being there and she knows this is actually happening rather late in the game and she knows this will be an adjustment, but she doesn’t want things to change. She likes her simple, boring household where just she and her dad and Ollie live. She doesn’t need somebody new spending time there. Janis does the laundry, she cooks most of the time, she cleans. She doesn’t need a mother.

 

But the question isn’t if she needs one—it’s if she wants one.

 

For some reason, she’s nervous to see Cady. Surprisingly, Cady’s already in homeroom, and she waves her pencil at them when they come in. Her smile grows upon Janis approaching her desk. “Good morning, starshine,” she jokes in a breathy voice. “The earth says hello.”

 

“Starshine says she wishes she could go back to sleep,” Janis grumbles, but grins at her.

 

“Janis, spill the tea,” Damian coaxes before taking his seat a few feet away. The three of them being separated is a crime.

 

Cady’s eyes are big with curiosity. Janis sighs, twisting in her seat towards her. “My dad’s girlfriend spent the night,” she murmurs to Cady, who gasps. “Yeah. They’d been drinking and he didn’t want her driving home, so she stayed. And guess what?” Cady leans closer. “She slept in one of his shirts.”

 

Cady’s jaw drops. “ _No_ ,” she replies indignantly. “She didn’t.”

 

Janis shrugs. “I thought that was my thing, but I guess I have to share him now.”

 

Cady’s expression becomes seriousness. She reaches over to touch Janis’s elbow. “Are you okay?”

 

“I don’t know,” Janis admits honestly. Her pulse is unpredictable with anxiety.

 

She gets considerably more anxious during classes where Cady isn’t present, and only finds relief when they reunite in the halls. Janis being near Cady when she’s having a rough day is almost addicting, like Cady is an anti-anxiety pill and Janis can’t get enough.

 

At the very least, Janis never sneaks into the bathroom to make herself vomit like she planned, so she classifies that as a little victory.

 

During lunch, Janis notices how Karen Smith has been exiled to the vegans’ table, looking longingly over at the Plastics’. She laughs under her breath. Serves the idiot right for thinking she could throw a party without Regina’s knowledge. Janis hopes that’s the extent of her punishment, though. Regina’s slaps hurt.

 

So do her insults, and historically those are always the most painful.

 

There was a time when Janis dared to sound the slightest bit belligerent in response to something Regina had said, and Regina had fired back so ruthlessly it felt like she actually had just slapped Janis. Janis had a panic attack as a result but she didn’t want to show it so she nearly suffocated in her own body. It’s not easy trying to hide a panic attack while it’s happening, but it became a skill.

 

During chemistry, Cady asks what Janis wants to do for her birthday, and Janis is thrown. She doesn’t much care for her birthday and it freaks her out realizing this is going to the first birthday in six years she’s spending without Regina. She’s celebrated every single one with her since her eleventh.

 

Naturally, they never did anything Janis wanted to do. Her parties were always Regina’s idea put together on her family’s ever so generous dime. And Janis couldn’t protest or say she’d rather do x, y, or z thing, because that’d be rude and Regina would throw a tantrum.

 

Janis just didn’t know how to say no. It wasn’t in her vocabulary.

 

“Janis?” Cady’s voice tugs her gently back to the present. “Sorry. You okay?”

 

“Yeah.” Janis swallows hard, adjusting her goggles. “Um. My birthday. Uh, I don’t know. I don’t really…feel like doing anything. It’ll be a Tuesday, so I’m just gonna spend it in my basement with a tub of ice cream. Damian can bring balloons or whatever.”

 

Cady’s brow is pinched, like she’s concerned over Janis’s lack of pre-birthday enthusiasm. “That’s it? Do you even want a cake?”

 

“No,” Janis says, checking something in her textbook. “I really don’t.”

 

Cady frowns deeper. “But. It’s your birthday. You have to have cake, so you can make a wish and blow out the candles.”

 

Janis snorts. “Caddy. I’m turning seventeen, not seven. And all my wishes never come true.”

 

“What did you wish for last year?” Cady wants to know, her voice subdued.

 

“Nothing last year,” Janis tells her in earnest. “Because Regina had me convinced I had everything I wanted. It was really what _she_ wanted, but ya know. Maybe that’s why my wishes don’t ever come true, because Regina’s always been breathing down my neck, practically wishing for me.”

 

“Well, if _you_ could wish for something this year, what would it be?” Cady presses.

 

Janis looks at her. God, she’s adorable; those goggles are too big for her face. Her curls are fluffy from the steam, reminding Janis of Hermione in that one scene from _Half-Blood Prince_. Janis wants to kiss her again. To steal a swift peck on the lips.

 

“I don’t know,” she eventually answers, lying now, then smirks wickedly. “No, wait—I’d wish for Regina to fall into a snake pit.”

 

Cady giggles. “Nothing like being bitten by your own kind,” she muses.

 

* * *

 

Janis doesn’t just dislike her birthday because it’s been tainted by Regina. It was tainted by her mom first.

 

For nearly seven years, Janis has asked herself why her mom couldn’t just wait two more days. Why she had to kill herself the day before her daughter’s tenth birthday. It’s bothered Janis all this time and she hates that she’ll one day have to make peace with the fact she’s never going to get an answer.

 

Janis was so excited to turn ten. She really was. Her parents were going to take her to Chuck E Cheese and she was going to win a bunch of tickets to buy prizes with. She would get a cookie cake with her name on it, written in rainbow icing. She loved cookie cake.

 

But she spent her birthday in a hospital, catatonic from shock and grief. Finding your mother’s lifeless body in your bathtub sort of does that to you.

 

When Janis thinks back to that day, she remembers it in slow-motion. She walked in through the basement like always, having just gotten home from the grocery store with her father. She bounded up the steps, sneakers creaking the wood. She went upstairs to show her mother the keychain her dad had bought her for being a helpful shopper. At first she couldn’t find her, but then she realized she hadn’t checked the bathroom.

 

Her body somehow knew before she even entered. She pushed open the door, her big brown baby eyes drawn to the bottles and pills strewn on the tiled floor. They drifted up from there, landing on the figure in the bathtub, an unlit cigarette still dangling between her mother’s fingers.

 

Janis dropped her keychain, which was a dog—a pitbull. Because her mother loved pitbulls.

 

Janis doesn’t like remembering the rest. But the image of her mother’s ashen face, held between small and shaking hands, is as vivid today as it was then, and one glance at the bathtub where she died is all it takes to really make Janis vomit.

 

Oddly, Janis has a harder time thinking about the funeral than discovering her mom. The funeral cemented the reality of the situation, and to a ten-year-old that was worse. Because when you’re ten, and your mom is fucking dead, you don’t want to believe it. Then you see her in the casket and cry for the first time since you found her. And you still don’t want to believe it. But Mommy isn’t coming back, and you don’t understand why she hurt herself, and nobody can actually tell you why.

 

It wasn’t an accident. That much has always been obvious. Nobody wanted to say that, either.

 

And so you spend your tenth birthday in the hospital, cradled in your father’s arms as he cries silently into your hair. And that sticks with you. Every detail about that time in your life, it cements itself firmly in the depths of your brain, and you can’t forget. You can’t fucking forget.

 

Janis knows what she’d wish for, if she had a cake this year. She’d wish to talk to her mother one more time. Just to ask _why_.

 

And perhaps Janis still doesn’t believe it, because what mother could be so cruel?

 

* * *

 

Janis pads into the living room on Sunday night, silently joining her father by curling up on the couch adjacent to his spot in his recliner. He smiles a little, pleased to see her and that she didn’t bring her phone with her. She just wanted to be near him.

 

“You wanna watch something?” he asks, turning the volume down on the football game to offer the remote.

 

Janis shakes her head, pulling her legs up. “No, this is fine. I like football.”

 

“No, you don’t,” he argues good-naturedly, and she grins at him over her kneecaps. “C’mon. Put on one of your paranormal alien shows you keep recording.”

 

And so Janis does, finding it cute how he’s interested and willing to watch with her.

 

They exchange commentary and Janis is endeared by how into it he gets, never having been one to dwell on supernatural beings. Janis’s mom used to love shows like this and that’s probably where Janis gets the fascination from. She’s used to watching this kind of stuff with Damian, so it’s nice to share it with her dad.

 

Janis is just grateful he doesn’t say Abby would enjoy watching this with her, because then it’d be ruined.

 

He does mention Abby, though, and Janis braces herself for…something. He brings her up when the last available episode ends, saying, “Abby was telling me her mother’s attic is haunted. She thinks there’s a ghost hiding in one of the boxes.”

 

“Burn the entire house down,” Janis deadpans, and he laughs. “No, really. That’s the only way to avoid getting possessed.”

 

“Just burn the whole house? Okay. But if it’s a ghost—you can’t burn a ghost to death if it’s already dead.”

 

Janis huffs a laugh, rubbing her eyes around a yawn. “Well, her mom should call a priest and exorcise her entire house, unless she wants to become the inspiration for the next installment in _The Conjuring_ series. Bet she has a creepy ass doll somewhere in her attic.”

 

Janis undoubtedly believes in ghosts, just because of how haunted she feels existentially. Sometimes she wakes up feeling like something’s standing at the foot of her bed, or is outside the shower while she’s in it. But there’s never anything there, except maybe Ollie. The feeling is usually fleeting.

 

Lately, though, she’s been getting that sense more often, and it freaks her out.

 

Janis puts the football back on, and for several minutes they sit in companionable silence. Then her father looks over at her and asks falteringly, “Hey, uh… Did you wanna do something for your birthday? I could take you and your friends out to eat.”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “Nah. I was thinkin’ they’d just come over and we’d watch a movie or something.”

 

“You sure? You don’t…wanna do anything special?” he continues awkwardly.

 

“Nope,” Janis says stiffly. “I don’t even want presents. A card would be acceptable, though.”

 

He purses his lips. “What if I already got you something?”

 

“Return it, dude. You know how awful I am at accepting gifts.”

 

He chuckles. “Your mom was the same way,” he responds thoughtfully, and Janis’s insides twist strangely. He never talks about or mentions her mom. “When I proposed to her, she begged me to go back and get a cheaper ring. She absolutely hated feeling pampered.”

 

Janis has gone her whole life not knowing that. “She had expensive taste, though,” she mutters, partially to herself. She’d max her credit card on high quality wine, that’s for damn sure. She probably felt less guilty treating herself than receiving things.

 

Mr. Sarkisian looks at Janis for a long moment. “She’d want you to have a good birthday. So if you think of something, let me know.”

 

Janis gets to her feet, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here. “She didn’t fucking care about my birthday. But thanks.”

 

She leaves before an argument can erupt. She doesn’t want to be told she’s like her mother, or that her mother cared.

 

It didn’t feel like she cared when she committed suicide the evening of her daughter’s birthday. And Janis won’t let herself be compared to someone so selfish.

 

* * *

 

Janis skips school on Monday. Cady texts her sometime between first and second period, asking if she’s alright, and Janis tells her she just can’t today. She knows her brain pretty well, and is positive she’ll have a breakdown in the girls’ bathroom if anybody even looks at her wrong today, so she isn’t going to bother.

 

She sleeps in, only getting out of bed to use the bathroom every couple of hours, and her phone is quiet in her drawer. She hopes Damian is keeping Cady occupied so the poor girl won’t drive herself crazy with worry, though she probably is anyway.

 

Janis eventually makes her way down to the basement around six PM with a cup of ramen noodles for dinner. She feels like her head is disconnected from her body, or it’s just functioning on autopilot. She winds up falling asleep on the sofa with her quilt as cartoons play on the TV.

 

She’s briefly awoken hours later, waking long enough to feel her body be placed back in her bed, the brush of her father’s gentle fingers against her cheek, the pull of sheets around her cold body. Ollie curls up at her feet again, and she keeps sleeping.

 

When she wakes a second time, it’s past midnight, and it’s her birthday.

 

Janis feels strangely clear-headed despite the fog she experienced the previous day. Sore from sleeping in the same position, she slowly crawls out of her cozy bed so she can shower and brush her teeth and take her meds. She’s awakened by her warm shower, so she lays in bed for an hour, messing around on her phone until she feels tired again. She sets her alarm this time, intending to go to school today. She survived the hardest day. She can give herself props for that.

 

Her friends are waiting for her at school, and she smiles when she sees them. Cady seems relieved to see her, and hugs her tightly. “Happy birthday,” she whispers into her ear, and plants a noisy kiss on her cheek for emphasis. Janis blushes.

 

“So is this just another day or can we sing to you at lunch?” Damian inquires, and Janis punches him on the arm.

 

People stare more than usual today but Janis expected that. Her friends walk on either side of her down the halls, and Cady is hypervigilant. But she looks nervous, like she is waiting for something bad to happen. Janis takes her hand at one point to squeeze it, reassuring her it’s okay.

 

“We should have lunch in the auditorium,” Cady pipes up as they’re headed for the cafeteria. Janis and Damian give her a funny look. “Because it’s your birthday. And, like, I don’t know. I figured it could be just us. My mom made cookies for you last night, I thought we could…I don’t know. Just be alone at lunch for once.”

 

It’s not a bad idea, but her voice is weird and Janis vaguely senses there’s a reason why she doesn’t want to eat in the cafeteria. But Janis doesn’t feel like arguing, so she agrees, eager to try some of Mrs. Heron’s cookies, which she genuinely appreciates.

 

“Yum. These are good,” she tells Cady, naturally eating those first.

 

Cady grins. “I’m glad you like ’em. I don’t know what your favorite cookies are, so I hoped chocolate chip would be okay.”

 

“I’m dying, Caddy,” Damian groans, eyelids fluttering. “These are heavenly.”

 

“I’ll pass along the compliments to the chef,” Cady promises. Janis hopes things are okay with her and her mom.

 

“So, how does it feel to be seventeen?” Damian drawls when they’re done eating, propping his feet up on the seat in front of him.

 

Cady starts humming _Dancing Queen_ and both Janis and Damian crack up. (She hadn’t seen _Mamma Mia!_ until meeting them, which is a travesty.)

 

“Um. It’s alright, I guess,” Janis admits with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve only been seventeen for a few hours. I’ll get back to you in a week, see how I feel.” She doesn’t feel older. She feels the exact same as she did yesterday. Aging doesn’t scare her as much as it used to.

 

Cady seems bizarrely thankful when school is out and they can go back to Janis’s house. Janis thinks it’s definitely odd that she’s so eager to get the hell out of school, but can’t blame her at the same time, not when Regina’s stalking the halls, probably still peeved from what happened on Halloween.

 

The rest of the day is uneventful, which is exactly what Janis wanted. But Cady is still jittery at her house, and occasionally appears deep in thought about something. Janis is too afraid to ask her what’s wrong. She might tomorrow. No drama today, please.

 

“Thanks for a good birthday, guys,” she sighs as they gather their things, Damian’s mom waiting outside to take them home.

 

“We hardly did anything,” Cady answers, sounding mystified that’s what Janis wanted.

 

“Yup,” Janis says cheekily. “That’s the point. And it was beautiful.”

 

Cady hesitates before hugging her, and they stand by the door hugging for an unusually long amount of time. Janis isn’t complaining, though.

 

“Love you,” Cady whispers as she’s pulling away, and it’s so soft Janis wonders if she actually said it.

 

“Happy day of birth,” Damian says in farewell, then follows Cady out the door.

 

Janis flops back onto the sofa, exhaling heavily. This was probably the best and most boring birthday she’s ever had. All because Regina wasn’t here to celebrate with her. She wonders if this is what freedom feels like, and grins. This was one day Regina finally couldn’t ruin.

 

 _Happy birthday, Sarkisian,_ Janis thinks to herself. _Happy birthday indeed._

 

* * *

 

Three days later, people are talking. But not about Janis, or her weird friends. The focus is on Regina—and for once, nobody’s kissing her ass.

 

“What do you mean, Aaron dumped her?” The words feel clumsy in Janis’s mouth.

 

Cady shrugs, eyes huge with disbelief. “I mean, it makes sense. She was cheating on him with Shane Oman.”

 

“The senior, Shane Oman?” Cady nods. “Well, damn. I’m not surprised. That Aaron dumped her.”

 

“Yeah,” Cady says, looping her elbow through Janis’s as they wander away from Janis’s locker.

 

“How’d people even find out?” Janis whispers, hearing the buzz all around them.

 

“Aaron told his friends, so naturally they blabbed to their friends, and now the whole school knows,” Cady explains. “I’ll try and talk to him when I see him in calculus.” She’s looking down at her feet, ducking her head towards Janis as she speaks. “I feel kinda bad for him.”

 

Janis scoffs. “He should’ve known not to trust her to begin with.”

 

Cady doesn’t say anything, and they depart for their next classes. Janis shakes her head in amazement. Regina isn’t at school today because she got exposed _and_ dumped for cheating on her boyfriend. Gretchen isn’t here, either, presumably feeding Regina European chocolates as Regina weeps into her satin pillows.

 

In the back of Janis’s mind, however, she’s wondering how Aaron found out to begin with. Regina doesn’t have the heart or soul to come clean, so someone must have told him. But how did _they_ find out? Perhaps Shane’s guilty conscience made him speak up.

 

But that doesn’t sound plausible, either, and Janis is perplexed. She hopes Regina feels like shit regardless, though. Probably not. But it’s a nice thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cannot believe we’re already halfway there. can’t begin to express how grateful i am for all the love and support!


	16. pt 3: ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where things really start to pick up... big nervous
> 
>  **CH16 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  emotional abuse

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### sixteen

 

 

 

Janis breaking down in her arms haunts Cady in her sleep. She thought she knew how deep the wound is; she thought she had an idea of how hurt Janis still was because of Regina. But then Janis cried relentlessly for over an hour, and Cady had a hard time falling asleep that night.

 

Something needs to be done. She wrestles with that all morning. While she and Damian give Janis space and time to herself, she’s wondering if it’d make her a bad person if she gave in to the fire and toss Regina in and watch her burn. Janis would never trust her again. Janis doesn’t want Cady to do anything to Regina even though it’d mean she’d be free of her abuser once and for all. Why doesn’t Janis want that?

 

After their chat in the auditorium, Cady leaves feeling heavier than before. She meant what she said, that she’s sorry for not heeding Janis’s warnings and that she respects Janis as a person. That’s true. But maybe Janis just isn’t feeling brave enough to take on this task. Maybe she can’t mentally handle it right now.

 

Cady doesn’t want to betray her, she really doesn’t. But she’s tired of Regina, too, and wouldn’t mourn if she dropped off the face of the earth. Nobody would protest to that and Cady is positive people would be relieved. The illusion would shatter. People might become nicer.

 

This school is cursed. Somebody has to break it. Cady wants to be that somebody. With or without Janis.

 

* * *

 

Mrs. Heron has the day off, and comes to walk Cady home from school. Cady doesn’t hug her or even look at her, crossing the street with every intention of ignoring her the entire way home. They haven’t had an in-depth conversation since their last fight, and Cady genuinely doesn’t feel like they’re going to resolve anything at this point. She is stubborn like her mother, but Mrs. Heron is on another level of obstinate.

 

“I miss you,” is the first thing she says, and Cady rolls her eyes. “Really, I do. I miss watching our shows. And you won’t talk at dinner.”

 

“Because you don’t care what I have to say,” Cady reminds her bluntly, unable to stop herself from arguing. “Everything I say is wrong because you disagree with it. And my concerns aren’t valid because they’re negative and you can’t be anything less than a perfect mother.”

 

“That’s not true,” Mrs. Heron says bitterly. “We can agree to disagree. You say I’ve kept you trapped your whole life, but think about why it might _seem_ that way. You know I have been dealing with anxiety since I was your age. I can’t help that I get nervous if you aren’t near me. And I’m protective because I’m your mother and that’s just part of the job description. But you’re making it out to be worse than it really is.”

 

“I know how I feel,” Cady gripes. “I know how your behavior has affected me. What you need to do is shut up and listen when people tell you you’re hurting them.” She turns on her heel suddenly, coming face to face with her mom. “When someone says you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t.”

 

Mrs. Heron’s eyes get wide with bewilderment and pain of her own, but Cady’s heart is covered in steel, and she won’t allow it to be warped to feel for her. It’s time for Mrs. Heron to feel for Cady instead. Cady sees how Regina has trampled Janis. She’s tired of it happening to herself.

 

“If you loved me,” Cady whispers, staring daggers at her mother, “if you really loved me, you’d take everything I’ve said to heart. And you’d do some soul-searching. I’m not your puppet on strings, Mom. I exist outside of you. You gotta learn to deal with that.”

 

When Mrs. Heron doesn’t respond, Cady adds softly, “And we can’t _agree to disagree_ on your parenting methods. If you’re hurting me, it’s bigger than that. And if you really cared, you’d do something about it instead of trying to make me feel bad for calling you out. I’m not going to stop until you get it.”

 

Cady marches off down the sidewalk, walking the rest of the way home alone.

 

* * *

 

There’s a knock at Cady’s bedroom door thirty minutes later.

 

“Go away,” she grumbles from her desk chair, not in the mood to keep quarreling.

 

“Um, Cady?” a familiar voice says, and Cady stares at her door, wondering if it’s who she thinks it is. “It’s—it’s Karen. Karen Smith. Your mom said I could come up here…I told her we’re working on an assignment together. I have to talk to you.”

 

Cady pads to her door and slowly opens it. Karen is standing there, in the flesh. She smiles and gives her a small wave. “Hi.”

 

“Hi,” Cady echoes hesitantly, arching an eyebrow. “Um. How’d you find my address?”

 

“I asked the school receptionist, she gave it to me,” Karen tells her innocently.

 

“Okay. That’d be creepy if you were anyone else. Get in here, I guess.” Cady steps aside to allow entry, then shuts the door behind her. “You can sit wherever.”

 

“Oh, you have a _windowseat_ ,” Karen gushes, dumping her bag on the bed to go curl up in the window. “This is _so cute_. Oh my God. Your room is so nice.” She gasps when she looks up and sees the stars glued to the ceiling.

 

Cady brings her chair over to sit, folding her arms expectantly. “Okay. Cut to the chase. What’s up?”

 

“Oh, right.” Karen stretches her legs out and flattens her skirt. “Um, well, I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday. At my party.”

 

Cady shrugs. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I caused a scene.”

 

“She started it,” Karen says wryly, and they grin at each other. “But, yeah. I was really hoping she wouldn’t find out, because I just wanted one party where she wasn’t there. Just one.” Karen holds up a finger for emphasis, looking distraught. “But she has to go and ruin everything.”

 

“She doesn’t seem like a very good friend,” Cady points out gently.

 

Karen laughs, low and sarcastic. “She isn’t. She makes fun of me all the time. Because she knows I’m too stupid to have a good comeback.”

 

“You aren’t stupid,” Cady chastises instantly. “Don’t say that.”

 

“No, I am,” Karen sighs. “I’m failing at everything. I’m probably gonna be kicked out soon. I’m only at our school because I can sing and dance, and I did a skit from _Legally Blonde_ the school board really liked. But I’m not actually _smart_ enough to be there.”

 

Karen doesn’t seem to be fishing for sympathy, only stating facts. Cady scoots closer so she can take her hand. “Well, whether or not you’re smart, you don’t deserve to be treated unfairly by someone who claims to be your friend. A person’s dignity isn’t weighed by how smart they are. Or what they can offer other people. Okay? You are your own person. And that within itself makes you worthy of respect.”

 

Karen squeezes Cady’s fingers, touched by her kindness. “Thank you, Cady,” she murmurs, and it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said to Karen in a while. Cady trusts that Karen isn’t the same person Janis knew—she’s grown up and matured, and is evidently another of Regina’s victims.

 

“Are you and Regina, um…still gonna be friends?” Cady asks tentatively.

 

Karen sighs. “I have to sit with the vegans for now, but I think Regina will let me sit with her again soon. As long as I say sorry and take her and Gretchen shopping, I think it will be okay. She likes having me around for some reason. And I have no other friends.”

 

Regina’s a predator. She preys on the weak for her own gain because she knows she can manipulate them into doing what she wants. It sickens Cady, and her heart aches for Karen, who clearly doesn’t know any better and would be ostracized and alone if Regina kicked her out of the Plastics. It’s clear to Cady that Karen doesn’t like being one but she has no other options. At least, none that she knows about. Cady bites her lip, contemplating what she’s about to suggest.

 

It could be risky, but it’s worth a shot. Aaron Samuels may be the weak link, but Karen is stronger than she thinks.

 

“Hey,” Cady whispers, and Karen looks up. “Can you help me with something?”

 

* * *

 

It’s the day before Janis’s birthday, and she doesn’t show up for school. Cady texts her to see if she’s okay, chewing her thumbnail as she waits for a reply. Janis responds to say she just can’t handle school today. Cady wonders why today and not her actual birthday.

 

She’d ask Damian, but won’t put him on the spot. It’s not his story to tell.

 

Because Regina and Gretchen skip gym on occasion, Karen is safely able to wander over to Cady so they can talk. “Hi. I have something.”

 

Retying her shoelace, Cady looks expectantly at Karen until she takes the hint and keeps talking. “Um. Tomorrow is Sarkisian’s birthday, yeah?” Cady nods and her whole body tenses up uncomfortably. “Well. Regina was thinking of tracking her down and ‘giving her a present’ in the form of, like, soda down her shirt or whatever she can get her hands on. She isn’t sure, but she definitely wants to do something to her.”

 

Cady’s blood boils and she breathes angrily through her nose for a minute. “Jesus. Okay. Anything else? Gretchen have any bright ideas?”

 

“No, but if they bring it up again I’ll let you know,” Karen assures, and ambles away after Cady nods her understanding.

 

It didn’t take much for Karen to hop on board with Cady’s plan. She agreed someone should put Regina in her place, and was thrilled Cady came to her with the task. She’s Cady’s inside man; she’s been taking voice memos of conversations between Regina and Gretchen now that Karen gets to sit with them again. It can be used as evidence, one day when the time is right. They’re waiting for something hugely incriminating that could potentially get Regina expelled.

 

Cady is too giddy over her and Karen’s newfound alliance to think of consequences.

 

She goes to text Janis again after gym, but doesn’t want to bother her if she’s having alone time. She rubs her bottom lip worriedly until Damian appears at her locker. “Hi,” he says brightly, but his face falls when he sees her expression. “What?”

 

“Nothing. I’m just thinking about Janis, is all.” Cady sighs and slips her phone into her backpack. “I miss her.”

 

Damian nods in agreement. “I do, too. But this day is pretty hard for her. So I don’t blame her for skipping.”

 

Cady hesitates before asking quietly, “Does it have to do with her mom somehow? Or does she hate her birthday that much?”

 

Damian smiles sadly and swings his arm around Cady’s shoulders. “I’d say both, Caddy dear.”

 

* * *

 

Cady is wrecked with anxiety the following day. She doesn’t know if Regina is going to appear out of thin air and tarnish Janis’s already fragile birthday. Despite the anxiety, Cady is glad to be in the know or else something would undoubtedly happen if she wasn’t protecting her friend.

 

They take her up on her idea of eating in the auditorium, since Cady assumes lunch is the prime time for Regina to attack. Her mom made cookies for Janis after Cady let it slip it was her birthday and doesn’t usually like celebrating, but probably would enjoy something sweet if she didn’t want cake. Cady and her mom are still not talking all that much, but she appreciates the effort she took to make Janis smile today.

 

Cady walks with Damian and Janis back to Janis’s house, since that’s what Janis wants to do. She feels better once they’re off school property and Janis is no longer in any danger. She still has a hard time beating the tremors in her hands and the need to jostle her legs. Janis’s house is a safe place, but Cady is still nervous. She hopes Karen, sweet and helpful Karen, isn’t risking too much by helping her on the down low. It was pretty brave for her to agree to it, honestly.

 

Cady gives Janis an extra-long hug before she and Damian leave. She hopes Janis had a good day, even though nothing particularly exciting happened. Cady’s relieved to have avoided Regina all day—Janis might not approve of the plan, but Cady’s grateful for Karen.

 

If they cut ties tomorrow, at least she could say Regina didn’t ruin Janis’s birthday for once.

 

The next day, after the final bell, Karen shoots Cady an urgent text.

 

 

Cady leans against her locker, tapping her foot against the floor as she waits for Karen to respond.

 

 

Amused by Karen’s emoji usage, Cady hurries toward the back of the school. She exits through the courtyard and onto the football field, over to the bleachers where Karen is hiding underneath. Karen waves her over and Cady jogs to see her, heart pounding.

 

“What’s up?” Cady demands, whispering even though they’re alone.

 

Too excited to speak, Karen taps into her voice memos and presses play on the most recent one. Cady steps closer to listen.

 

For the first minute it’s just a casual conversation between the three Plastics, then Gretchen asks if Aaron and Regina have had sex recently. (Why that would be Gretchen’s business is a mystery to Cady.) Regina laughs her tinny laugh and says, _“No, but Shane Oman and I hooked up last Saturday.”_

_“You what?!”_ Gretchen squeals, not unhappily. _“Oh my God. Spill the deets.”_

And so Regina tells them how Shane is always flirting with her when Aaron isn’t around, and she decided to finally take him up on his offer. They apparently had a wild time and it was “better” than every single time she and Aaron have screwed. Okay, gross.

 

 _“Are you gonna see Shane again?”_ Gretchen asks, tickled pink.

_“Mmhm,”_ Regina drawls, and Karen offers a faux sound of approval. _“I am tonight. But I’ll keep Aaron around, he buys me stuff.”_

 

Karen stops playing the memo, since all the juicy stuff ends there. Cady gapes at her for a long time. She cannot believe their luck. “This was today at lunch,” Karen informs her then. “Aaron was sitting with his friends, that’s why she talked about it.”

 

“Oh my God.” Cady runs her hands through her hair, beginning to pace. “Oh my God, Karen. Holy shit.”

 

“I know,” Karen says gleefully. “Is this what Fox News would call a bombshell?”

 

“It’s scandalous, all right,” Cady huffs. “We have to tell Aaron tomorrow.”

 

Karen’s face falls. “What? No, we can’t do that. We’re supposed to hurt Regina, not Aaron.”

 

“Karen. His girlfriend is cheating on him, we have to tell him,” Cady insists. “And if he has half an ounce of self-respect, he’ll break up with her. And _that_ will hurt Regina. Not that she actually cares about him, obviously, but he’s still valuable to her in different ways. We take away her boy toy, and what does she have?”

 

“One boy toy,” Karen answers breathlessly, even though it was rhetoric.

 

“Right. Whatever. But Karen—this is the first step.” Cady grabs Karen’s arms elatedly. “We finally have something big that’ll ruin her life for a bit.”

 

Karen exhales nervously, looking at the paused recording. “You really think it will?”

 

Cady smiles, and combined with the look in her eyes it strikes Karen as particularly wicked. “I _know_ it will,” Cady vows.

 

* * *

 

As calculus is ending the next day, Cady reaches out to tap Aaron on the shoulder, and they grin at each other. “Hey,” he says, friendly as always.

 

“Hi. Um, do you think you could meet me after school?” she requests. “Behind the bleachers?”

 

“For what?” His brow furrows. Cady almost hates to imagine what he’ll look like when he finds out.

 

“I—it’s hard to explain,” Cady murmurs. “But it’s really important, and you should know about it. I’m not joking around, but if you don’t show up, I understand. But it will make sense if you do, I promise.” She doesn’t have a Plan B if he says no.

 

“Oh-kay,” he answers hesitantly, standing from his desk. “Alright, I’ll see you later, I guess.”

 

Cady is on edge the rest of the day, but hides it well so her friends won’t make a fuss. Aaron’s sitting with the Plastics again today, totally unaware what’s about to hit him. It would be funny if it wasn’t such a serious problem. Cady is holding off on feeling bad for him completely—he could have an unpredictable reaction.

 

Karen paces as they wait for him to show up. “What if he doesn’t?” she laments. “Then my spy work will all be for nothing.”

 

“No it wouldn’t,” Cady assures her gently. “We could still share it, just not with him.”

 

“That’d be mean,” Karen pouts. “He shouldn’t have to find out like that. So he better show up, because—”

 

“Cady?” Aaron calls, and Cady’s body sags with relief. He wanders over, backpack on one shoulder, wearing a tentative expression. “Karen. Hey.”

 

Karen waves awkwardly. “Hiii. You probably weren’t expecting to see me.”

 

“No, I wasn’t,” he confirms, and looks to Cady. “So, uh. What’s up?”

 

Cady nods to Karen, who retrieves her phone to pull up the recording. “We’ll explain how we got this in a minute,” Cady tells him cautiously, “but you need to listen to it first. We—there wasn’t any other way to tell you. But you deserve to know about this.”

 

Karen hits play, and Aaron listens with a pinched brow. Cady watches his face contort into a look of pure horror, though she vaguely wonders why it’s so surprising that this girl in particular is a two-timing piece of garbage. In shock, Aaron takes Karen’s phone so he can rewind and listen again.

 

“Wow. Um. Okay.” He clears his throat after the third listen, returning Karen’s phone. Dazed and confused, he runs a hand through his hair.

 

Cady puts a sympathetic hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

 

“Yeah, it’s—yeah. Okay.” He looks at Karen, who frowns sadly. “Um. Why were you recording in the first place?”

 

“I’m Cady’s inside man,” Karen chirps proudly. “She asked me to help destroy Regina’s life.”

 

“Yeah,” Cady confirms when Aaron looks at her sideways. “I mean, you get why.”

 

“Sort of,” Aaron replies pensively. “So, Karen, you just…you’ve been secretly recording them talking? What other things do people not know about?”

 

“This was the biggest,” Cady tells him. “The rest is just typical Regina bullshit.”

 

“We’re collecting evidence to use against her later,” Karen adds, far too spirited given the fact Aaron looks like he wants to die. “We’re hoping we gather enough we can take it to the principal and she’ll get expelled.” She probably seems too excited over that given she’s supposedly friends with Regina.

 

“Uh-huh,” Aaron says. “Okay, well… Thanks for letting me know, I guess. I gotta…go home and think.”

 

The girls watch him trek back to the courtyard, and only turn to each other when he disappears. Karen beams. “We did it!” she shouts, arms in the air, then hugs Cady while jumping up and down.

 

* * *

 

Cady chews her tongue as she walks to school the next morning. There’s a pit in her stomach that’s been there since they told Aaron what Regina did. The reality of it all is sinking in; someone has been personally affected by her scheme. For the right reasons, of course. But still. Someone got hurt.

 

 _Okay,_ she tells herself. _It’s not a bad thing. Aaron didn’t deserve to be cheated on in the first place, and now he knows the truth._

 

It wouldn’t have come out any other way, Cady is sure of it. So it’s not all bad.

 

As soon as she gets to school, she senses something in the air is different. People are talking, and it doesn’t take long for her to hear what they’re saying. She hears plenty of takes on the matter, but generally the consensus is the same: Aaron broke up with Regina for cheating on him.

 

Admittedly, her first thought is that Karen leaked it, but then it seems more likely for Aaron to have spoken to a friend about it, and it all went downhill from there. Or perhaps Regina posted some dramatic Instagram post and people came to their own conclusions.

 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter how the story got out. What matters is that it did. Cady expected this to happen—she has no complaints.

 

“He should’ve known not to trust her to begin with,” Janis says, scoffing.

 

Cady doesn’t reply. She’s thinking about Aaron, since this must genuinely be really hard for him. Not only did he find this out, but now the whole school knows, and he’s not going to get the privacy he deserves to deal with this. So, maybe there’s one complaint on Cady’s part. It could’ve waited a few more days.

 

She’s actually surprised he’s here at school. She sees him in calculus, and he’s got shadows around his eyes and messy hair. When the bell rings, she whispers his name. He turns around to acknowledge her, considerably less enthusiastic than yesterday.

 

“Hey, Cady,” he sighs, and though his voice is so dull it still cuts into her.

 

“Hi. I’m sorry everybody’s talking,” she tells him sincerely. “Karen and I had nothing to do with it, I swear.”

 

“Oh, I know,” he says, nodding. “I guess my buddy started blabbing, and now everyone knows.” He rolls his eyes. “Fantastic, right?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, no.” Cady shakes her head. “No, not fantastic. I’m sorry.”

 

He grins at her, endeared by her awkwardness. “You’re fine. And, ah… Thank you. For, y’know. Bringing it to my attention. Now that we’re through, I see more clearly what type of person Regina was. She just…was different around me. But I ignored a lot of the bad stuff because I wanted it to work. I really thought she liked me. And I thought I could…make her better, or something. I don’t know.” He pinches his nose. “But it’s whatever. We’re done. And I’m the fool.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Cady reminds him as they walk together out of class. “If you gave it your all, that’s all you can reflect on. She chose to cheat on you.”

 

“I know,” Aaron murmurs, looking down at his shoes. “I still feel. Guilty.”

 

She grabs his arm so he’ll stop walking and look at her. “Don’t feel guilty,” she says solemnly. “Her actions don’t define who _you_ are.”

 

He gives her a sad, thoughtful look, then smiles softly and touches her shoulder. “Thanks, Cady. Really. I’ll see you later.”

 

“See you.” She watches him walk away, head down, into the crowd. Another casualty in the battlefield that is Regina’s life, but Cady’s first victory.


	17. pt 3: ch 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *guzzles vodka*
> 
>  **CH17 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  physical abuse mention  
> lesbophobia/d slur

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### seventeen

 

 

 

In a peculiar turn of events, Aaron and Karen wind up at Cady’s house that weekend after she invited them both over to talk about Regina. She can’t close her door if a boy (not including Damian) is in her room, so she hopes her mother doesn’t try to eavesdrop on their little meeting.

 

Aaron takes her desk chair, Karen naturally is perched in the windowseat, and Cady sits cross-legged on her bed. It throws her a bit, having two people who aren’t Damian and Janis be in her room. They’ve been her only friends for so long.

 

“Okay. So. Aaron, how are you doing today?” Cady asks as a first order of business, trying not to sound trite.

 

He sighs, looking more tired than he did yesterday. “I’m glad it’s Saturday, or else I would’ve skipped school,” he confesses.

 

“Regina’s a wreck,” Karen reports, playing with the tassel on a throw pillow. “Gretchen’s been texting me updates.”

 

Cady rolls her eyes. “Regina deserves to feel terrible. She’s probably only upset because she got exposed. No offense, Aaron. I mean, we all heard what she said, that she would only keep you around because you ‘buy her stuff.’” She makes air quotes, insulted on his behalf.

 

Aaron scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, that…that was hard to hear. That she basically only used me to get stuff. If she wasn’t happy with how I am in bed, she should have just talked to me about it, or better yet, just broken up with me.”

 

Karen wrinkles her nose at the sex mention. “Regina has really high pleasure standards, it’s not your fault if you struggled to reach them.”

 

They stare at her for a long moment, mouths open. This girl truly has no filter.

 

“Right,” Cady says, looking back to Aaron. “But, yes, I agree. She should’ve talked to you or ended things rather than cheat on you and brag about it. That just proves she’s a heartless bitch with no regard for other people’s feelings. So, again—it isn’t you, Aaron. She chose to sleep with Shane.”

 

“Because you weren’t hitting it right,” Karen chimes in helpfully.

 

Aaron sighs and drops his face into his hands. Cady gives Karen a look, then says to Aaron, “ _No_. Because she’s selfish and lacks empathy. And if Shane gets involved with her, like in a relationship, then he’s going to be sorely disappointed when she isn’t what he hoped for.”

 

“I don’t know why guys think Regina is such a catch,” Karen muses, staring off into space. “I mean, you’re right, she has no empathy for the people around her. She makes me lose weight because she doesn’t like how I look in my clothes, and when Gretchen’s crying about something—which is a lot, just not at school—she tells her to stop and doesn’t try to make her feel better. So that’s usually my job. But Gretchen doesn’t want my help, all she cares about is Regina. So, I’m actually not that close with Gretchen. She’d probably be really happy if I quit the Plastics. But Regina won’t let me.”

 

Okay. There’s a lot to unpack there, starting with the concerning fact that Regina dictates what Karen does with her body. Telling by Aaron’s stunned expression, he had no clue any of that was going on. Whatever front Regina puts up around him, she takes it down when she’s alone with Gretchen and Karen.

 

“I was actually thinking of telling Regina to kiss my ass after crashing my party, but then you came along and asked me to be a spy,” Karen rambles on delightedly. “And it’s a fun job. All I have to do is record our conversations. Regina has no idea I’m doing it.”

 

She giggles, enormously amused. Something occurs to Cady then, and her eyes get wide. “Oh, shit. Karen. We didn’t think this through. Aaron ‘mysteriously’ found out that she was cheating the day after she told you she slept with Shane… Damn it.”

 

“We can just call that a coinkydink, Cady,” Karen reassures her, waving a prim hand. “It’s no big deal.”

 

“Except it is,” Cady insists, panic rising in her throat. “Oh, no. She’s gonna figure it out, that either you or Gretchen—wait.” She gasps, and Karen perks up at the very same second, like she’s reading Cady’s mind before she’s voicing her idea. “Wait, wait, wait. _Gretchen_. She’s our next step.”

 

“Huh?” Aaron asks, bewildered by how much Cady just went back and forth.

 

“Gretchen’s a blabbermouth, is she not?” Cady says eagerly. “Most of the gossip in school gets spread because of her. Aaron—you should tell people _she_ told you. It would make so much sense. And Regina would believe it, because she knows Gretchen can’t keep her mouth shut. And if she loses her right-hand girl—she’d only have Karen. Like you said, Karen, Gretchen might not care about you, but Regina does. Both of you are valuable to her in some way. So if we make her and Gretchen’s friendship falter enough, they’ll turn on each other. And Regina will confide in you more, meaning we’ll get more things to use against her later. But if we got Gretchen to spill all her secrets because she’s hurt over what happens with her and Regina…that would work, too.”

 

There’s a pause, then Karen claps. “I didn’t understand any of that but yes to making Gretchen sad, too.”

 

Cady looks to Aaron, relying more on his agreement. He seems uncertain at first, then waves a hand and leans back in the chair. “Alright,” he concedes with a shrug. “If I’m asked about how I found out in the first place, I’ll say Gretchen told me.”

 

Cady high-fives him. “Welcome to the team, Aaron Samuels.”

 

* * *

 

Cady finally understands what it means to lead a double life. All week she is going back and forth between her team and her friends, soon unsure how to differentiate them, since she grows fond of both Aaron and Karen rather quickly. There’s an alliance among them, united by their shared vendetta against Regina.

 

It feels really nice to be able to do something about her frustration and have people who are in the same boat.

 

Regina is back at school by Tuesday, and she’s bitchier than usual. Yelling at people in the halls, pushing them out of her way, nearly snapping at a couple teachers. Karen reports to Cady that Regina’s trying to figure out how to make Aaron forgive her.

 

“Yeah, right,” Aaron mutters when Cady relays it to him during calculus. Cady smirks when he rolls his eyes, glad he’s not easily swayed.

 

At lunch, Cady joins Janis and Damian with perhaps a bit too much flounce, because they inexplicably stare at her.

 

“What is it?” she says self-consciously, looking down at herself.

 

“You’re so happy,” Janis notes in a deadpan, sounding annoyed.

 

“I’m just having a good day,” Cady tells her with a shrug. “Sorry?”

 

“Janis is mad because her dad’s girlfriend spent the night again,” Damian informs Cady, earning a punch to the arm from Janis. Unfazed, he adds, “And he’s taking them to dinner on Friday night and they’re gonna have to get to know each other.”

 

“Yikes.” Cady scrunches her nose sympathetically at Janis. “I’m sorry, Jan. That’s rough. At least tell me she brought her own pajamas this time.”

 

Janis cracks a smile. “Yeah, she did. Thank God. I’d have busted a blood vessel if I saw her in my dad’s shirt again.”

 

“He must really like her,” Damian muses around a bite of PB&J.

 

“Shut up,” Janis gripes, and stomps on his foot under the table. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

 

“I thought you said she was nice,” Cady interjects warily. “I mean, at least she isn’t the classic psychotic stepmom.”

 

“Not yet,” Janis mumbles, and Cady falls silent, afraid to push it further. She just wants Janis to have a positive maternal figure in her life for once. She deserves it after she has missed out on fun mom and teenage daughter things. Not that Cady can relate to that, not recently. Things are still tense.

 

By Wednesday afternoon, word has gotten out that Gretchen told Aaron about Shane and Regina. Aaron shoots Cady a wink when they pass each other in the hall, and it’s exhilarating to know their plan is working. Cady joins Damian at Janis’s locker, still grinning.

 

“How’s Aaron doing?” he asks her as Janis opens her locker.

 

“He’s okay,” Cady says. “We’ve been talking after calculus. He’s going back and forth with how he feels about the situation, but he promised me he wouldn’t let her try to be nice to him to get him back. He doesn’t want anything to do with her.”

 

“Dumbass shouldn’t have had anything to do with her in the first place,” Janis mutters, slamming her locker shut.

 

“Maybe Regina reeled him in by acting a certain way at first,” Cady says, jumping to his defense.

 

Janis makes a face at her. “Doesn’t matter. She was a cunt long before she did what she did to me. He never should’ve liked her.”

 

Maybe she has a point, but that’s not really relevant to Cady right now. What matters is that he’s seeing the kind of person Regina is. And he wanted her to be better; it’s not like he completely turned a blind eye to the things she was doing. He could’ve done more to keep her in check like he promised, but lots of gossip is started by Gretchen, so not every single thing that happens to or is said about someone comes directly from Regina.

 

Doesn’t make her any less of an evil demon, but Aaron _was_ trying to change her.

 

On Thursday, people are rowdy since tomorrow is a half day and it’s the start of Thanksgiving break. Karen comes to Cady during gym and tells her Regina got into a huge fight with Gretchen the night before, and didn’t believe Gretchen when she insisted she hadn’t told Aaron about Shane. The only reason Karen’s not a suspect is because it wouldn’t be wise for _her_ to do it—to Regina, Karen is complacent, and wouldn’t have anything to gain from it. Despite the party incident, Karen is too “meek” to speak up, so it came down to Regina questioning Gretchen’s loyalty instead. Basically, the Plastics are beginning to sever, and Cady is ecstatic.

 

Janis asks Cady to come shopping with her after school that day, since she needs a new dress for dinner tomorrow night. Her dad made reservations, so automatically that means the place is super fancy and probably has an unspoken dress code.

 

It’s just the two of them at the mall because Damian has choir, and Cady feels weird being alone with Janis after not getting the chance to in a while. She misses her, she really does, not having realized how much until now. At least today they don’t have to worry about seeing the Plastics here.

 

Janis has no clue what she’s looking for, so they go into several different stores to look at dresses. If Janis had the choice, she’d wear ripped jeans, combat boots, and jean jackets with lots of pins on them. But they have to wear uniforms to school, so she doesn’t even own a pair of those clunky boots she keeps eyeing. Cady wonders what her style would be if Regina hadn’t confined her to so much pink for six years.

 

“I feel like my inner person is a gothic punk with multicolored hair and wears lots of layers,” Janis muses, combing through a rack at Macy’s.

 

Cady’s belly twists at that mental picture, her brain adding a nose ring and tattoos for good measure. If that’s what Janis looked like, Cady would certainly have a type. She likes the way Janis looks, though. She thinks she’s still pretty cool even if Janis doesn’t see herself that way.

 

“I feel disgusting, but how about this?” Janis exits the dressing room, wearing a knee-length black dress with a modest neckline and long sleeves. It clings to her body like a fabric version of a hug. (That’s what Damian would call it.) It’s very simple, but Cady chokes on her slushie regardless. With her already dark hair and eyes, Janis resembles a teenage version of Wednesday Addams, and she’s beautiful.

 

“Is it that bad?” she asks, turning to scrutinize her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, God, I can’t wear this, I’m a walking personification of a funeral.”

 

“No, you look great,” Cady tells her, setting her drink down to go fix her up. She tucks Janis’s hair behind her ears and reclips her bangs back. She vaguely remembers how she still has one of Janis’s clips from that day in the bathroom. And her shirt and shorts from Halloween.

 

Either Janis forgot she gave them to her, or she’s too afraid to ask for them back. Which makes Cady glad, because she wants to keep them.

 

“There,” she says with a nod. “I’m guessing you’ll put on makeup tomorrow, but you look good.”

 

Janis makes a face at her reflection, fussing with the dress. “I dunno. I don’t want old ladies coming up to me to say I dress too mature for my age.”

 

“Fuck ’em,” Cady replies dismissively. “That’s their problem, not yours.”

 

Janis snorts, but catches Cady’s eye in the mirror, and Cady gets that weird tug in her gut again, the one she felt in the bathroom. Like she could stand up on her tip toes to kiss Janis, right then and there. But she can’t. It’s not in the cards for them.

 

Janis buys the dress, which makes Cady happy. “You better send me tons of pictures tomorrow,” she says as they’re leaving the store.

 

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll do it for you, and only you, Caddy,” Janis swears, and that makes Cady’s heart overflow.

 

* * *

 

“You’ve been hanging out with that boy recently? Aaron?”

 

Cady looks up from her textbook, startled. She’s sitting at the kitchen counter, doing homework while her dad makes dinner. “What?”

 

He grins. “It’s okay. If you like him, I mean. I just was wondering.”

 

 _Oh boy, here we fucking go._ “He’s a friend,” Cady tells him in a clipped tone. “Just a friend, Dad. Plus he just broke up with his girlfriend, so.”

 

“And that means you _can’t_ like him?” Mr. Heron teases, and Cady groans.

 

“Dad, c’mon. She cheated on him,” she reveals, and he raises his eyebrows. “Yeah. She’s crazy.”

 

“So are you nursing him through his breakup or something?”

 

“As a friend, yeah,” Cady mumbles. “He’s in my calculus class. Lately he’s just needed a friend to talk to, y’know? It happened so suddenly and word got out that she cheated and it’s been a big mess. I feel bad he has to deal with gossip on top of his breakup.”

 

“You’re sweet to be there for him, Cady,” her father compliments. “I’m proud of you.”

 

She hums from the praise, even though it’s probably only half-valid when she’s the one who sneakily found out he was being cheated on to begin with.

 

“You still see Janis and Damian?” her dad is asking apprehensively.

 

“Yeah, of course,” she says firmly. “I’d die without those bitches.”

 

Mrs. Heron comes home then, entering with Wilson after his evening walk. It fascinates Cady how her mother is able to pretend like everything is fine when everything is so blatantly not fine. She wishes her father would intervene, or that she could tell him what she’s feeling so he can talk some sense into his wife. This is the most stretched-out dispute and it’s driving Cady crazy with frustration. Plus it’s just tiresome, trying to get your mom to understand how toying with your emotions isn’t cool. Mrs. Heron is more self-centered than Cady thought if she refuses to accept criticism about herself.

 

She tries not to think about how she might be the same way.

 

Her phone is lighting up with texts from Janis and Damian, but waits to answer until she’s in her room. She gathers her stuff and leaves without greeting her mother.

 

At school on Friday, Cady hasn’t been there for ten minutes when she’s bumping into none other than Gretchen in the girls’ room.

 

They look at each other for a moment, unfamiliar with seeing either without Regina or Janis and Damian. Gretchen looks like she’s been put through the ringer. Obviously it isn’t looking peachy for her and Regina’s friendship, but Cady finds it hard to feel an ounce of remorse for her.

 

Then Gretchen’s pushing past her and out the door, like she was never there at all.

 

Since it’s a half day, school will be out by the end of calculus. Cady is hoping Karen can squeeze something out of Regina before then, just to have something worth looking forward to unleashing after holiday break is over. Janis tracks Cady down before calculus starts, finding her spending her break at her locker on her phone.

 

“Hey,” Cady greets, and Janis smiles. “What’s the smile for?”

 

“Oh, nothing. I’m just excited for our sleepover. And Thanksgiving.” She leans against the lockers next to her. She texted Cady about the sleepover last night, to her surprise and delight. They haven’t had one with just the two of them yet. The thought makes Cady’s stomach flutter.

 

“Same. I can’t wait to sleep in this week and stuff myself sick with turkey.”

 

Janis snorts. “I think we’re having a vegan Thanksgiving this year,” she proclaims. “Because of Abby, obviously. I want turkey.”

 

“Do you know where you’re going to eat tonight?” Cady inquires.

 

“Yeah,” Janis sighs, looking down at her feet. “But I already feel like killing myself and it’s only, like, ten hours from now.”

 

“Just be yourself,” Cady advises, and Janis smirks. “Be natural. Once you get to know her, you might like her more.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t already,” Janis murmurs. “I just. Hate that my dad has a girlfriend, I guess. It’s weird. She sleeps over. They go to work together. She’s just in our house a lot and I don’t like it. She’s not nosy or anything, thank God, but it’s just… _weird_ , having her around.”

 

Cady takes Janis’s hand and squeezes it comfortingly. “You’re gonna be okay, Jan.”

 

Janis leans her head against Cady’s with a weary sigh. “I hope so.”

 

* * *

 

Cady is walking out to the courtyard to meet Karen at the bleachers when she hears someone crying. A quick look around leads her to Gretchen, and Karen’s already there with her, keeping her company. Karen waves Cady over, wide-eyed and nervous.

 

“Gretchen?” Cady says softly, and Gretchen lifts her tear-stained face from her hands to acknowledge her.

 

“Ugh.” Gretchen sniffs and swipes the tears from her eyes. “What do _you_ want?”

 

“Nothing, I just…heard you crying and wanted to see who it was,” Cady tells her awkwardly as Karen mouths to her, _Start recording._

 

Karen obviously didn’t get the chance to open her voice memos prior to helping Gretchen, so Cady discreetly taps into her own, only somewhat guilty as she presses record then slips her phone into her jacket pocket. She takes a seat beside Gretchen.

 

“Did something happen?” she asks the crying Plastic, who utters a fake laugh.

 

“Something’s been happening _all week_ ,” Gretchen replies bitterly. “I can’t believe Aaron Samuels told people I told him about Shane and Regina. I know I have a big mouth, but I wouldn’t betray Regina like that! But she doesn’t believe me and doesn’t trust me anymore. She’s mad at everybody right now.”

 

“Yeah,” Karen agrees solemnly. “She made me puke up my salad after lunch because she was annoyed.”

 

Cady and Gretchen look at her for a moment. Cady will have to talk to her about that.

 

“Anyway,” Gretchen sniffs, smoothing out her skirt. “She hates me. And I didn’t even _do_ anything. She believes her ex more than me. And she wasn’t even in love with him. They had good sex and he bought her jewelry and shit, but that’s all she cared about. And I’ve been loyal since that stuff with Sarkisian blew up. She needed a friend, and I was there for her. I mean—” She hiccups. Cady is tense at the mention of Janis. “It’s not even what everybody thinks. She told me to tell people something different. But it’s so bad, she didn’t want anyone to know the truth. But she still wanted to make Sarkisian feel like shit.”

 

“Wait, wait,” Cady interrupts, feeling like she’s floating outside of herself. “Gretchen, what do you mean? Janis and Regina, all they did was kiss.”

 

Gretchen barks a laugh. “Is that what Sarkisian told you? Oh my God.”

 

“Yeah, on Halloween, Janis told me Regina kissed her when she came out to her,” Cady clarifies. “Is that _not_ what Regina doesn’t want people to know?”

 

Gretchen rolls her wet eyes dramatically. “For starters, Regina is _not_ gay. She’s not into girls. _Definitely_ not.” The way she says that implies both she and Regina would take offense to people thinking so. “But that isn’t the point. She kissed Sarkisian just to see what she would do. Y’know, ’cause they’d been friends for so long and Sarkisian was like a faithful puppy. But Regina told me she wanted people to think Sarkisian had groped her, y’know? Like, assaulted her or whatever. It’s hilarious how fast people lapped that up. Now they all think Sarkisian’s a dyke who can’t keep her hands to herself.” She snorts a laugh.

 

Cady is vibrating with rage, and the effort of not taking Gretchen’s head and smashing it into a nearby pillar. “Don’t fucking call her that,” she says darkly.

 

Gretchen shrugs. “Well, whatever. People know she’s gay without it implicating Regina in anything. And you wanna know the best part?” She giggles hysterically, and Cady somehow knows what she’s going to say next. “They didn’t just kiss. No, no, they _screwed_.”

 

 _It’s not true,_ is Cady’s first thought. _That’s not true. That’s not true._

 

Janis may have been wrapped around Regina’s perfect finger, but that doesn’t mean having sex with her would be a totally willing experience. Regina had power over her—she could make Janis do whatever she wanted, because Janis was vulnerable and had nobody else. She clearly trusted Regina enough to come out to her, but if Regina is not into girls, there’d be no valid, plausible reason for them to have sex. Unless Regina wanted to take that from Janis, too.

 

Janis isn’t stupid. She knew Regina is straight; she wouldn’t have sex with someone who didn’t like her back. So there’s something wrong here, a lie to get Janis to participate. If they did indeed have sex, that is. What Gretchen says and what’s actually true could wind up being two different things.

 

“So that’s Regina’s biggest secret,” Gretchen is sneering.

 

Not just Regina’s, Cady realizes dimly. If it’s true, it’s Janis’s, too. And it’s the one secret that can’t be shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you are sensitive to the topic of sexual assault and want to know what happens in later chapters, please message me on tumblr off-anon so i can provide the proper trigger warnings/information in advance. this is just a story, please stop reading if it will affect you in any way!


	18. pt 3: ch 5

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### eighteen

 

 

 

Janis has a hard time sleeping all weekend, and on Monday night flashbacks haunt her dreams so badly she wakes up sweating and out of breath. She presses her face in her pillow and screams; in her disoriented state, the memory of bubblegum lips and claw-like hands on her body is hard to escape.

 

That Tuesday is already off to a bad start, but then she goes downstairs to find Abby at the table again. She knew Abby was here last night, but had hoped she’d magically have disappeared by the morning. At least she’s in her own pajamas this time.

 

“You okay, Janis?” Abby asks as Janis sinks into a chair, exhausted.

 

“Fine,” Janis mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “Didn’t sleep so good.”

 

“Nightmares?” her father inquires, coming over with plates of toast and eggs. “I’m sorry, pumpkin.”

 

Janis shrugs, not hungry enough to eat but doing so anyway to ease his concern.

 

Halfway through breakfast he announces he wants to take them out to dinner on Friday, and Abby is overjoyed. It takes a second for it to process in Janis’s foggy brain, but when it does she swallows down a groan of resistance, not wanting to offend Abby or disappoint her dad. Truly, she’d rather jump off a bridge than go to a lavish restaurant and have dinner with these two. That’s, like, a total recipe for disaster.

 

At school, Regina is back from her four-day breakup vacation and Janis avoids her more than usual. She doesn’t want to see her stupid face today, not unless she feels like ending up doubled over a toilet from being nauseated. It doesn’t help that Cady shows up at their lunch table looking terribly chipper.

 

Janis doesn’t want to think about why. And she definitely doesn’t want to talk about her father and Abby, because her friends won’t understand. It confuses her enough as it is, trying to figure out how to handle this. She doesn’t want their unneeded input.

 

Her father comes home from work alone that night, to Janis’s immense relief, although being seated at the kitchen table to do her homework means she can’t make a quick escape to her room. So she isn’t surprised, just irritated at herself, when he comes to sit with her under the intention of discussing dinner plans.

 

“Are you okay with Friday?” he asks, as if she’s going to say no and make things awkward. She wants to but he already seems let down by her lack of enthusiasm earlier; it must have shown on her face more than she originally thought.

 

“I mean, I guess,” Janis mutters, closing her English textbook. “I can’t exactly back out of it.”

 

“Sure you can,” he tells her lightly. “If you aren’t ready for it, I understand. Me and Abby can just go have dinner, then.”

 

Janis fidgets, still feeling obligated to go with them. “No, no. Obviously you want her and I to start bonding, so…I should make the effort. Even if it’ll be weird. I dunno, Dad, I just—don’t like having her around all of a sudden. I know I said I was fine with it, but now it’s really happening, and I’m…”

 

She trails off. Her father listens without judgement, then says, “I get it. I know how strange this is. It sorta happened really fast, didn’t it?” She nods. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I have to ask, though, does _she_ make you uncomfortable? Or is it just that I’m dating her?”

 

“It’s because you’re dating,” Janis assures him. “No, I like Abby, from what little I know about her. She’s nice. And she’s nice to you. She seems to…make you happy. So. It isn’t her personally, Dad. I’m seventeen and I—I haven’t—I haven’t had a mom in seven years, so it’s a little…odd, having a woman around the house again. Don’t know if I like it, or if I wished it was the woman you married first, even with…all the stuff that was wrong with her,” she admits, looking down at her hands.

 

They never talk about her mom, and Janis hasn’t been this honest with him in a while. The words taste sour on her tongue, gawky in her mouth, like they don’t belong there and shouldn’t be said. Like it’s too late to discuss it, to tell him how she feels.

 

Mr. Sarkisian reaches out and she lets him take her hand, but still can’t look at him. He doesn’t ask her to. He never asks anything of her. But he never wants to discuss the obvious, either, and maybe that’s why it’s so hard to mention her mother, because if he can’t do it, how can Janis?

 

“I miss Mom, too,” he says softly, and now Janis really cannot look at him. “I think about her every day. And I still love her, deep down. That didn’t go away just because she did. Just like you still love her even if she’s not here anymore. But…I’ve reached a place where I can love Abby now, too, and not feel guilty. I’ve struggled with moving on. I was afraid to. I thought I was doing your mother a disservice by even imagining myself with someone else. Because, y’know what? Sometimes I wish she was still here, too—even though she had problems, even though her and I had problems, that didn’t negate how we felt about each other. It still doesn’t. And I miss her a lot. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try something new. Abby is nothing like your mom, and that’s what I love about her.”

 

Janis dries the stray tears on her cheeks with her sleeve. “You love Abby?” is all she can think to say in response to that, though she wants to say more. She just can’t right now. The feeling of loss is crawling back again, taking away her voice.

 

“Yeah, I kinda do,” her father confesses, grinning sheepishly. “And I’m trying not to be ashamed of that, to not feel bad for loving another woman. But like you said, it’s been seven years. You’re grown up. I’ve grown up, too. We’re in different parts of our lives, kid. But I want you to know you don’t have to push yourself into this for my sake. If it’s not the right time for you, it’s okay. Abby will understand. And I can tell her you need your space—I can spend time with her elsewhere. She doesn’t always have to be here if it bothers you. No, it’s fine,” for Janis had begun to shake her head, “it’s fine. She won’t be offended. She wants you to be okay with it, too.”

 

Janis sniffs, appreciative that the one woman her father starts dating is a thoughtful and considerate person. With her luck, she expected Abby to be a complete monster. It seemed that way when she threw that fit over the phone a couple months ago, but you never know what causes a person to combust. One side of the story is all people are willing to hear sometimes, and Janis subconsciously judged her based on that one bad moment. But in the short time she’s been around, Abby has proven herself worthy of Janis’s father—Janis wouldn’t let her stay if she thought Abby wasn’t treating him fairly.

 

“So,” her dad says conclusively, “you don’t have to come to dinner with us. But you’re more than welcome if you want to.”

 

“I’ll go,” she vows, because she can’t find it in herself not to try. “It’ll be fine.”

 

He kisses her knuckles and she leans across the small space between their chairs to hug him. It takes him by surprise at first, but then he returns the embrace, and Janis is peacefully overwhelmed with a sense of relief that, finally, they had a good talk.

 

* * *

 

Apparently Gretchen spilled the beans to Aaron about Regina having cheated, but Janis isn’t sure if she buys it.

 

Gretchen Wieners is an ass-kissing attention-seeker who doesn’t appear to have any reason to share that information with Aaron. Janis knew her for a time and is aware of what a gossip she is, but keeping Regina’s secrets is basically her job. Regina pays her in high heels, mani-pedis, and a false sense of adoration.

 

Unless they have bad blood all of a sudden, Gretchen has no reason to abandon her validating position out of respect for Aaron.

 

She’s a bit weirded out by how quickly Cady jumps to Aaron’s defense when Janis says he shouldn’t have ever dated Regina. They hooked up over spring break and he’s never shown signs of being too bothered by the shit she pulls, with or without Gretchen’s help. Janis wonders what part Karen plays in the Plastics; she’s like an accessory, doesn’t serve much of a purpose but still makes Regina look pretty.

 

Janis resents ever having been a part of that. Being someone’s accessory is not where she belongs.

 

Cady comes with her to the mall to help her find a dress for tomorrow. Janis misses her even though she sees her every day. She wants to ask if they can have a sleepover again but something stops her every time she goes to suggest it. Maybe it’s because she wants it to be just them this time, and that’s actually kind of terrifying. Though they already sort of skipped the awkward phase and went straight to sleeping in the same bed, so maybe it’d be alright.

 

Sometimes it hits Janis out of nowhere that she slept in Cady’s bed. She still remembers what her pillows smell like, and how her hair looks right when she wakes up. Janis feels fluttery whenever she thinks about that, because her mind jumps to the future, to waking up to that every day. Janis knows she isn’t in love with Cady (despite Damian insisting she is) but sometimes. Sometimes she just wonders, what if she was, and what if Cady felt the same? Even if Cady isn’t straight, Janis wouldn’t know how to strike up friendly gay banter. That’s scarier than just the two of them having a sleepover.

 

She thinks about Cady seeing her naked as she steps in and out of dresses. Would Cady like her stomach, hips, and thighs as they are? Would she kiss her throat and her collarbones and her chest? Would her hands be gentle, almost reverent? Would she see Janis for how she is, not what Regina wanted her to be?

 

Looking at herself in the mirror prior to putting on the last dress, Janis isn’t sure if she is worthy of that. But then Cady takes one look at her in this dress and she chokes on her drink, and Janis hopes it isn’t that bad. When Cady tries to make her feel better about how she looks in the dress, Janis is reminded of that feeling in her gut she got the day Cady broke down in the bathroom. It grows when Cady meets her eyes in the mirror, and Janis wonders if she’s thinking about that moment, too. Janis had fixed her up to boost her confidence—Cady’s trying to do the same thing. And it goes a long way.

 

Janis buys the dress because Cady liked it on her. There was a red patterned one Janis liked more, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to make Cady proud of her. Her need for validation from her friends is still going strong, apparently. Janis would reprimand herself for it if she had the strength.

 

She tries on the dress again later that night, waiting for the moment she starts to like how her waist and boobs look in it. She kept it as modest as possible to reduce the risk of being stared at, so she doesn’t think her father will object to it. The problem is that she’s unsure how she feels about it. The voice in her head that’s pointing out the flaws sounds an awful lot like Regina. Maybe she should lose weight. Maybe she should get hair extensions because her short hair makes her look like a child. Maybe she needs a face transplant on top of everything. Not good enough, never good enough.

 

Janis hangs up the dress in her closet with bitter tears in her eyes, then returns to the bathroom and locks the door.

 

* * *

 

Janis skips dinner that night, telling her father she doesn’t feel well, but still sits at the table to keep him company. She tells him she got a dress for tomorrow, only because she knows he isn’t going to ask her to model it for him. Then she asks where exactly they’re going to eat.

 

“Oh, this vegan place that just opened up downtown,” he says, and she raises her eyebrows. “Oh. Abby’s going vegan. We drove by it the other day and she said she’d love to try it, so I made reservations. I hope that’s alright,” he adds, wide-eyed.

 

“Yeah,” Janis shrugs. “I mean, we can’t exactly go anywhere else.”

 

“Well, we could,” he counters gently. “She calls around for vegan options sometimes. But I figured we’d go to this place to avoid that for once.”

 

Janis snorts. “It’s horrible enough making phone calls in general, but doing it because you’re vegan…”

 

He chuckles. “You should ask her about it. It’s pretty interesting. And she knows there’s people out there who don’t champion their cause in a nice way, so she doesn’t want to be like that. She isn’t going to force anything down your throat, pumpkin. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.”

 

“I thought vegans didn’t eat animal products,” Janis muses, remembering the other morning when Abby willingly ate a plate of eggs.

 

“Like I said, she’s _going_ vegan,” Mr. Sarkisian laughs. “She’s trying.”

 

“Good for her,” Janis nods, hoping that doesn’t sound sarcastic. She genuinely means it.

 

“Everything okay at school?” her father asks after he comes back from loading the dishwasher. “How’re your friends?”

 

“They’re good,” Janis sighs, pulling her knees up on her chair. “School’s good.”

 

“You still liking art class?” he says, and when she nods he asks, “Oh, your art show. When is it again?”

 

“A month from now, December fifteenth,” Janis reminds him, touched that he remembered. She didn’t expect him not to, but it’s sweet that he asked. She knows how lucky she is to have a dad who is interested in her life without being overbearing. She wishes Cady’s mom could be like him.

 

Mr. Sarkisian drills his nails against the outside of his beer bottle, visibly hesitating. Janis guesses the question before he’s voiced it. “Um. Would you mind if I brought Abby as my date? To the show? You can say no. But I told her you’re an artist and she was really excited to hear that. I’m sure she’d love to go.”

 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Janis murmurs. “I don’t care. Don’t wanna leave her out.”

 

“I won’t embarrass you,” he promises, looking at her sincerely.

 

Janis grins. “I know you won’t. It’s Damian I’m worried about. He’ll be crying tears of pride more than you will, probably.”

 

Mr. Sarkisian laughs. “And Cady? Is she going to support you?”

 

Janis isn’t sure why, but she hesitates, uncertain for the briefest moment. “Yeah, of course.”

 

She texts her friends in their groupchat later that night, asking if they’re coming, just to be sure. Damian says yes in all caps and it takes Cady ten minutes to reply, but she says yes, too. Janis then texts her privately, now that she’s gotten her attention.

  

 

Janis smiles at her phone, blushing from the compliment despite personally disagreeing.

 

 

Janis didn’t mean to send that second one. _Shit._ She was about to bring up the sleepover then decided against it.

 

 

Janis stares at her ceiling, weighing her options. She could send a vague meme or insist that it’s nothing or tell her the truth. The latter is a dumb idea, because what if she agrees to it? Then Janis has to face the reality they’re having a girls-only sleepover.

 

Janis sighs, figuring why the hell not. Cady’s going to bug her about it at school tomorrow until she cracks, so there’s no use in deflecting.

 

 

She chews her thumbnail, anxiously awaiting a response. Cady disappears for a few minutes, but then replies.

 

 

Janis goes to bed that night jittery from nerves. She can’t tell the difference between fear and anticipation anymore.

 

* * *

 

Janis hates how she looks even more after she’s gotten ready the following evening. She feels too adult in her dress with her face full of makeup. Her eyeliner attempt was a success, and her dark red lipstick doesn’t look too bad. Her hair is the same as always.

 

Her friends hype her up when she sends selfies, and her father gasps when she comes down the steps, but Janis doesn’t see the appeal. She’s definitely going to wear an outfit she’s more comfortable in to her art show. She can’t do this again.

 

Abby is happy to see that she’s joining them and squeals over how pretty she is. Janis bounces her leg in the backseat all the way to the restaurant.

 

It’s a super cute place, even though it’s fancy. Janis doesn’t know what she was expecting, but she likes it here immediately. The light fixture above their table looks like ivy dangling from the ceiling, and the centerpiece is a fresh daisy in a small vase. Cady would just die if she was here.

 

They order nachos as an appetizer. Abby looks so happy to be here, and Janis wracks her brain for a time when her mom was this excited about something. It feels like the older she gets, the harder it is to remember the good things about her.

 

“So your dad tells me you have an art show coming up,” Abby mentions as they munch on their chips.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Janis says shyly. “Yeah. I, um, I submitted a painting I did of my cat, and they’re gonna have it on display that night.”

 

“Awesome. I love Ollie, he’s such a sweet boy,” Abby comments, and Janis knows she should glow with pride, she feels a pang of possessiveness over her cat. That cat is her original best friend, before Damian and Cady, before Regina. There’s a reason he only ever sleeps on her bed.

 

“When did you get into art?” Abby is asking, pulling Janis back to reality.

 

“Oh, um. This summer.” Janis glances at her father, wondering how much he’s told Abby about…all that. “Uh, when I was in…when I went to art camp,” she amends. While that’s true, she isn’t going to mention she went to therapy first. “That’s where I met my friend Damian, actually. I’ve always liked to draw and color and stuff, but I didn’t start painting until this year. It’s pretty fun. I still like sketching a lot more, though.”

 

“Have you ever thought about selling your art?” Abby wants to know.

 

Janis shrugs thoughtfully. People on Tumblr do it all the time, and she does post some artwork there, but she doesn’t think anybody cares enough about her to actually pay cash for a picture. Plus she wouldn’t want to deal with the anxiety and pressure of getting a piece of work done on time.

 

“Not really,” she admits. “My sketches aren’t that great, anyway.”

 

“Oh, you’re just being humble,” her father interjects good-naturedly. “I’ve seen some of the stuff you’ve done, and it’s pretty good.”

 

“You’re my dad, you’re legally obligated to say things like that.”

 

“On top of that, I mean it. You’ve got talent, Jan. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

 

“Thaaanks.” She’s glad the light is dim, because her cheeks are warm.

 

Janis unironically gets a salad for dinner, just because she’s already half full from the nachos. She isn’t surprised at how good it is, but Abby finds it cute how she thought it would actually have chicken in it like the title suggests, when it’s actually something called seitan.

 

Janis takes her father up on his suggestion to ask Abby about veganism and what made her decide to give it a shot. Abby’s explanation is diplomatic and calm, which Janis loves. Some of the vegans at school act like non-vegans are products of evil so it’s really hard to take them seriously even if their cause is cool.

 

Overall, dinner goes smoothly, even when Mr. Sarkisian excuses himself to use the bathroom, leaving Janis alone with Abby. Janis nervously watches him leave, still a tad scared of what Abby might do now that he isn’t there to keep the peace.

 

“I appreciate you coming with us tonight,” Abby says to Janis, and her expression is so gratified Janis feels bad for doubting her.

 

“You’re welcome,” she answers pleasantly. “I’m having fun. I really like this place, I’ll have to bring my friends here.”

 

Abby nods her approval. “You said you met Damian at art camp, what’s he like?”

 

Janis detects the implication in her words, and giggles awkwardly. “Oh, he’s amazing. He’s really silly and weird and always knows how to cheer me up. But, like, nothing is gonna happen between us, ’cause, um… Well, he doesn’t like girls, not like that. So we’ll always be just friends.”

 

It takes Abby a second to understand what that means, and Janis waits with a pounding heart for her to get it. “Ohhh,” she says, eyes wide, then by some miracle, smiles. It would’ve all gone to shit if she reacted the other way. “Oh, okay. I see.”

 

“Yeah, so.” Janis shrugs. “He’s just my buddy. You’d love him if you met, he’s really sweet.”

 

“I look forward to meeting him, then,” Abby replies frankly, and it warms Janis’s heart. “Do you hang out with any girls?”

 

Janis nearly chokes on her water. “Oh, um. Yeah. My other best friend, Cady. The three of us are all friends together. We met her when she started school this year. She’d just moved from California and didn’t know anybody, so. I’m actually having a sleepover with her on Monday.”

 

“Oh, fun,” Abby chirps, and Mr. Sarkisian returns then, touching Abby’s shoulder as he walks back to his seat. She glows up at him, and Janis has to look away. She wants someone to miss her so much for five minutes they beam like the sun when she returns.

 

Her father insists on taking a picture in front of the restaurant when they leave, and the end result isn’t nearly as awkward as Janis expected. She actually looks happy to be there, grinning at her father’s phone with Abby beaming on his other arm.

 

“Send that to me,” she asks him, then sends it to Damian and Cady. Damian sends a ton of crying and heart emojis. Cady only favorites the picture, which makes her worry a bit. She bites her lip, debating over whether or not she should text her, then decides against it, wanting to give her space.

 

Later that night, Mr. Sarkisian stops by Janis’s room on his way to bed. “Hey. Thank you for tonight.”

 

Janis smiles sleepily from her bed. “You’re welcome. I had a lot of fun.”

 

“I’m glad.” He pads over to kiss her forehead in goodnight. “Sweet dreams, kiddo. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, Dad,” she murmurs, and he shuts off her light for her, then leaves.

 

Cady is on Janis’s mind as she gradually drifts off, her brow pinched with worry even in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we stan abby and janis’s dad in this house


	19. pt 3: ch 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big huge fucking trigger warning for this one. cannot stress enough. please proceed with caution.
> 
>  **CH19 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  sexual assault/rape  
> emotional manipulation

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### nineteen

 

 

 

“Regina, can I tell you something?”

 

Regina looked over at Janis, intrigued by the hesitancy in her words. “Janis, you can tell me anything, you know that,” she replied, going to sit beside her on the ottoman at the end of her bed. Janis looked down at her hands, freshly manicured nails shaking.

 

Regina noticed and took them between her own. “You’re shaking. What is it?”

 

Janis couldn’t look at her. She could hear her own pulse thumping in her ears, pressing against her skin as it throbbed in her wrists. Her stomach was in knots, twisting and turning. Regina lifted her chin with a gentle finger, her expression soft and concerned. “What’s the matter? You’re so pale.”

 

“I—I’m just nervous, is all,” Janis admitted in a strained voice. Truthfully, there was a voice in the back of her head advising her not to say anything, to keep this to herself til she was sure it was true. Because what if she shared it and turned out to be mistaken?

 

“You don’t have to be nervous around me,” Regina reminded her with a sweet smile that made Janis’s heart ache with affection. “I won’t repeat it, especially not to Gretch. I promise. Cross my heart.” She did just that, then held out her pinkie. It was still their sworn way of cementing promises.

 

Janis grinned and linked their fingers. “Okay. Um,” she began, then had to take a deep breath because she honestly felt like she was about to faint. “It’s…hard to explain. It only occurred to me about a month ago but I’ve been thinking on it a lot, like every day, and it…it feels right. Like, to me it does. It makes sense that this is…how I feel. The person I’m supposed to be, I think this is another part of who she is.”

 

Regina listened patiently, nodding at certain parts, then smiled encouragingly when Janis paused at the end. She squeezed her hand, coaxing her.

 

Janis looked into Regina’s big blue eyes and drowned in them for a centuries-long moment. She wanted to drown in those ocean eyes for the rest of her life, even if Regina kept boating to shore without her. Regina liking her back mattered little to her; she just wanted her support.

 

“So, what I’m trying to say is…” Janis continued breathlessly. “I, uh. I’m…I’m gay. I—I like girls. I _really_ like girls. I like girls the way you used to drool over One Direction, ya know? And I—I didn’t used to get it. I still don’t. Like, they’re cute, but would I think they’re hot if they were girls? Yeah, probably. So, like I said, I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I read up on some stuff, and…this is the conclusion I came to. I’m a…lesbian.”

 

The word was like foreign candy on her tongue, not necessarily bad but still new, and she was uncertain if she liked it or not. As for Regina, her lips were slightly parted and she seemed deeply invested in what Janis was telling her. She didn’t seem angry, just thoughtful, like she was taking Janis’s statement to heart.

 

“Wow,” Regina eventually said, and Janis teared up when she saw Regina’s eyes were damp. She pressed a finger to the corner of her eye, laughing lightly. “Wow. Janis. I don’t know what to say, I’m—I’m honored you wanted to tell me that.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis said, biting her lips to keep from smiling too big. Her whole body was trembling, but now from the joy and relief she felt, erupting like fireworks inside of her. “I haven’t told anybody else. My dad doesn’t even know. I think I’m gonna wait a bit to tell him next. But, um. Yeah.”

 

Regina was smiling like she was proud, and that was the most rewarding thing of all.

 

“I’m really happy for you,” she said, pulling Janis into a tight embrace. Janis tucked her face into Regina’s shoulder, grinning against her soft strawberry-scented curls. Hugs from Regina were always an otherworldly experience, like receiving a hug from her meant you were worthy of all good things in the world. That she chose you to hug, and it meant you must’ve done something right to earn it. Janis loved when Regina initiated hugs.

 

When Regina pulled away, she scooted closer til their thighs and knees were touching, and she kneaded Janis’s hand in hers for a pensive minute. Janis searched her face with curiosity, wondering what she was thinking. Then Regina inhaled, sounding uneasy for once in her life, and looked at Janis again.

 

“Can I tell _you_ something?” she inquired. Her voice sounded how Janis imagined a frightened, orphaned baby deer would look.

 

“Yeah,” she assured her immediately. “Anything. Are you okay?”

 

“Fine, I just—” Regina glanced away, then back again. Janis’s heart was skipping several beats a second, like it was anticipating what Regina was going to say. Janis’s soul was even getting ready to do somersaults if Regina said what Janis expected.

 

“Well, now that you’ve said it, I guess I should, too,” Regina finally breathed, and Janis stared with bated breath. “Erm. I think I kinda like girls, too.”

 

It wasn’t the first lie Regina had told her. But it was the first one Janis didn’t suspect was a lie.

 

“Really?” she squeaked, her other hand going to her mouth in disbelief. She couldn’t believe it. What were the odds that both of them were gay? Or just liked girls, if Regina didn’t know what her label was. That was okay. That didn’t matter to Janis, either. All she cared about was _Regina liking girls._

 

Because if Regina liked girls, maybe, possibly, she liked Janis.

 

“And, um—not just that,” Regina said, huffing a nervous laugh. “I like girls, I guess…but I like you, specifically. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that. I mean, I don’t want to make you feel weird or anything, because I know a lot is happening—”

 

But Janis was already shaking her head, squirming with elation. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s fine. I—I like you, too, Regina.”

 

Somehow, admitting that to Regina’s face made her pulse race faster than actually coming out.

 

They looked at each other for a minute, taking in the other’s face now that they were seeing it differently. Then Regina’s eyes dropped to Janis’s mouth, and Janis held still, and Regina slowly leaned in, tilting her head a bit. Then her lips brushed Janis’s like the sweetest whisper Janis had ever heard, and a chill rippled down her spine. Regina, very carefully, cupped Janis’s cheek in her hand, thumb rubbing along her cheekbone as she deepened the kiss, waiting for Janis to respond. Janis was so stunned by it all her brain didn’t know what to do. Then, slowly, she pressed her lips harder to Regina’s, and Regina hummed.

 

As thrilled as Janis was, that voice in her head was telling her to quit while she was ahead. To pull away, to tell Regina to stop. Not to wait—but to stop. But how could Janis want it to stop? She was getting everything she wanted, wasn’t she? The girl of her dreams was kissing her. She just couldn’t function properly to fully kiss her back like she deserved. Something wasn’t working right in Janis’s head, like her brain was doing everything it could to protect her for a while longer. Like there was something at the very forefront of her thoughts she refused to acknowledge. An ignored gut instinct, perhaps.

 

Regina George tastes like bubblegum. It intoxicated Janis, the flavor of Regina’s mouth on hers. She felt drugged, like she didn’t have control of her body. She was vaguely aware that should concern her, but it didn’t. Because she was getting what she wanted. Regina was kissing her. Her crush was kissing her.

 

“Come on,” Regina whispered then, pulling back to tug on Janis’s hands, jerking her head at the bed. Janis was barely breathing, but she followed her. She’d always follow Regina. She’d follow Regina into hell, not realizing she was already in it.

 

Regina combed Janis’s blonde hair off her face, hovering above her before connecting their lips again, licking her way into Janis’s mouth this time. It caught Janis off guard but she didn’t protest. Regina pressed her body closer to Janis’s, nudging her legs apart with her knee.

 

Janis really wasn’t breathing now, the lack of oxygen probably messing with her head, keeping her from giving in, from responding.

 

She didn’t feel trapped, though. She felt relaxed, but heavy, like her body weighed a million pounds. Regina didn’t seem to mind that she was a little quick to the slow. That didn’t stop her from moving her mouth to Janis’s jaw and throat as she softly dragged a hand down Janis’s chest and stomach over her shirt. Then she pulled it loose out of the waistband of her skirt so she could sneak under it, and dull awareness dawned on Janis then. Regina wasn’t going to let her leave this bed.

 

“Regina,” she muttered, finding the strength to move her numb arms, grabbing weakly at Regina’s to pull her hand away. Her fingers were toying with the front of Janis’s bra and it made goosebumps rise on Janis’s skin. Regina gave her a pouty look.

 

“What?” she cooed down at her, fighting against Janis’s bolstering grip.

 

“Maybe we should—can we just kiss for now?” Janis asked meekly, her voice ragged and muted, not her voice at all.

 

“That’s what I’m doing,” Regina grumbled. “Maybe you should kiss me back, hm?”

 

She tested Janis by kissing her again, and Janis let her arm fall back to the bed, stamina gone. It was like Regina’s lips were a spell that cursed Janis whenever they kissed. It was impossible to break. Dimly, Janis was afraid. But she didn’t want to admit that to herself, because that would mean this was bad.

 

Then Regina tugged Janis’s skirt down and her nails grazed the inside of Janis’s thigh, and Janis jerked away from her like someone had taken control of her body and did it for her. Regina growled and pulled Janis back with her other hand, looking offended.

 

“I thought this was what you wanted, Janis,” Regina whispered, sounding hurt.

 

 _I thought so, too,_ that voice replied, just not out loud like it should’ve.

 

Janis automatically took Regina’s face between her hands, yearning to soothe her. “I do,” she gasped. “Can we just…go slow, then? Be gentle?”

 

“Of course I’ll be gentle,” Regina promised. “You know I’d never hurt you. C’mon, don’t be such a baby. It’s just sex.” As she spoke, she unbuttoned her own pants. “And I’ll make sure you’ll never want another girl to touch you again, because you’ll just want me. Don’t you, Janis?”

 

Janis couldn’t compute any of this and she really wanted to say no she wanted to scream no, no, no until Mrs. George came running til the entire neighborhood heard til fucking NASA heard her but she didn’t because her voice was gone because Regina stole it from her and _Regina, Regina, Regina_ —

 

But she wanted it. Regina was right, she was being a baby. It was just sex, and she wanted it. She wanted it with Regina, because Regina wanted her, and Regina wanting her was all she truly wanted. Going in circles was okay as long as she was chasing Regina.

 

Janis let Regina kiss her again. Because she tasted like bubblegum. And Janis still hadn’t noticed the sourness beneath it.

 

* * *

 

Janis doesn’t think about that day a whole lot. Not what came after the coming out, and the kiss. She knows it’s bad, but her brain pushes it down. She can’t handle the fact that something happened and it wasn’t okay that it happened. So she just doesn’t think about it. It’s there, in her head. But she ignores it.

 

Until her mind suddenly throws it back at her in full force high definition with surround sound and colors brighter than her paints. And it’s not like a movie; she can’t turn it off or hit pause or rewind or hit the eject disk button so she can destroy it. She’s trapped again, lying on that bed, the smell of Regina’s perfume stronger than it had ever been. Regina’s bubblegum lips at her ear, shushing her when she spoke.

 

Regina didn’t want to hear it. Regina never listened to Janis anyway. She just did whatever the hell she wanted, even if Janis was nervous for her, if she told her it wasn’t a good idea. Regina wasn’t just headstrong—she simply didn’t care what destruction she left in her glittery pink wake.

 

Janis jerks awake, startled, the second Regina morphs into Cady.

 

Heart pounding, Janis stares up at her ceiling, breathing hard. Her covers are a mess; Ollie’s sleeping on her desk chair because she was so agitated in her sleep. Achy all over from the cold, Janis groans as she gradually pulls herself out of bed, not wanting to be in it anymore. For once, she’s afraid she’ll fall back to sleep.

 

The weekend drags on sluggishly. Janis only remembers to talk to her father about the sleepover the night before, and while it takes him by surprise he doesn’t object to it. Janis texts Cady to make sure they’re still on, and Cady sends a bunch of thumbs up emojis.

 

Mr. Sarkisian hesitates in her doorway that night, and she looks at him expectantly. “You sure you wanna have a sleepover right now?” he eventually asks in a gentle voice that makes what he says next even worse. “Just ’cause I hear you sometimes, in the middle of the night. Having bad dreams again?”

 

“No,” Janis mutters self-consciously, snuggling deeper into her bed. “I’m fine.”

 

Her father looks at her for a minute, then ultimately decides not to push it. “Alright. Come get me if you need me, kiddo. Night.”

 

Needless to say, Janis hardly sleeps that night, either, now that she’s aware she’s fussing while unconscious. She’s glad he didn’t list specifics or else that could have been hard to explain. Finally, she takes a sleep aid at four AM to knock her out.

 

There’s a lot of things Janis doesn’t want to think about right now. Cady showing up at her house the next day only reminds her.

 

“Look, I found the blow-up bed on the first try this time,” she chirps, walking in through the basement. Janis laughs.

 

“Good for you. There’ll be barely enough room on my bedroom floor for that thing,” she says. “I’d say sleep in my bed but it’s a twin. We’d squish each other.”

 

Cady presses Janis’s cheeks between her palms. “Like that, only in your bed.”

 

Janis giggles for an unnecessarily long amount of time, her nerves making that funnier than it is. They sit down on the sofa to watch something and Janis is still laughing. It earns her a mildly concerned look from her friend. “You okay, Jan?”

 

“Yeah,” Janis says in a high voice, handing Cady the remote since she can’t make decisions right now.

 

Cady asks her how dinner went once Janis calms down and Janis is actually happy to talk about it. Cady claps in delight, sharing Janis’s relief over how well it went. “I’m so glad. I knew it would,” she gushes, scooting closer to Janis because it’s cold down here. “You guys looked adorable in that picture.”

 

Janis snorts. “Yeah, I guess. I made it Abby’s contact picture, she was stoked.”

 

“That’s cute. See, I told you you’d be okay.” Cady pokes Janis’s arm good-naturedly. “I’m happy for you. If things are good between them, I hope they stay together. So you don’t have to go through the awkward beginning phase with another of your dad’s girlfriends.”

 

Janis is surprised that she means it when she replies, “I hope so, too.”

 

Janis wonders if this is how Cady felt that first time they hung out together at her house. It’s like her body is charged with electricity and she gets a shock if Cady so much as glances at her—that’s how intense it is. Her stomach is flickering with anticipation over something. She has no fucking clue what it is.

 

“I miss you,” Cady mumbles suddenly, curled up against Janis’s side.

 

It catches Janis off guard. “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

 

“I know. I just feel like I don’t see you enough anymore.” Cady tilts her head back, pouting. “I’ve missed this.”

 

Janis nudges her affectionately. “Well, I miss you, too. But we hang out. You went with me to the mall, didn’t you? And, like, you’re here now.”

 

Something in Cady’s expression, some underlying look in her eyes, unsettles Janis. She can’t pinpoint what it means, or what Cady’s feeling. Cady sighs and grabs the quilt to drape it over their laps, dropping the subject, now looking contemplative.

 

Janis won’t tell her she feels the shift, too. Like they balanced each other out before and now they’re struggling to find their footing.

 

Janis’s anxiety hasn’t stemmed at all by the time they “go to bed,” which really means they’re going to lie awake in the dark until one in the morning, just talking. Cady is on FaceTime with Damian when Janis returns from showering, and he screams like his favorite actor just popped into the frame.

 

“Oh my God, I love your wooork,” he drawls, and Janis flips him off.

 

“We miss you,” Cady tells him as Janis cuddles Ollie for support. Damian is visiting family for Thanksgiving break, so Janis doesn’t feel too guilty about not inviting him over. Though she’s sure if she told him she just wanted girl time he’d understand. Then again, he’d make assumptions and start bombarding her with articles on how to kiss girls, how to tell someone you have a crush on them, and then lesbian wedding photos.

 

Damian’s mother eventually calls him away so they have to hang up. Janis is on her bed leaning against her wall, adding the final touches to the sketch of her and Cady as a way to relax. Cady stretches out on the blow-up bed, scrolling through her phone. The silence is the calmest it’s been all day.

 

“Hey,” Cady whispers, resting her chin on the edge of Janis’s bed.

 

“Hello,” Janis murmurs, poking Cady’s forehead with her socked foot. Cady snickers and crawls up to sit beside her, grinning when she sees what Janis is working on. Cady knows art is a personal thing, so she won’t be weird about it. She still seems touched it’s a sketch of them, though.

 

Janis flips through her notepad to see if there’s any others she should work on. As she’s redoing a Chibi-style version of Damian, Cady sits pensively next to her. Janis isn’t in any rush to hear what she has to say, but she knows something’s coming.

 

“Um,” Cady finally says, scratching her neck. “Hey. Can I, uh…can I tell you something? It’s important.”

 

Janis’s heart leaps into overdrive and her head spins for a second as she looks at Cady. “Sure,” she says, feeling robotic as she sets her sketches aside to pay attention. A voice in her head is already yelling _bad, bad, bad_. But she can’t leave, she can’t tell Cady to keep it to herself.

 

She knows what Cady is going to say. The look on her face, in her eyes, it was probably the same face Janis wore when she came out to Regina. That fear, that hesitation, that excitement, that trust. Janis knows what that all feels like. And Cady visibly has so much faith in her, it kind of splits Janis’s heart in two.

 

Janis was once on the receiving end of a false coming out, and it’s haunted her for months. She knows whatever Cady is about to say is true—the universe may hate Janis, but not enough to put her through that twice. And Cady has no ulterior motive. She has no reason to lie. She just wants Janis’s support and her continued friendship. This is a big deal for anyone and Cady needs someone to guide her through it.

 

“Um—okay, so.” Cady turns toward her, and Janis lets her entwine their fingers. Cady’s hand is shaking. “I’ve been debating over telling you this ever since we met, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, just because it—it probably should’ve happened by now, but I couldn’t—”

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Janis whispers, squeezing her hand. “It happens when it happens.”

 

Cady nods. “I know. I just. Feel bad that I haven’t told you yet.”

 

“Nobody’s entitled to know unless and until you want them to know. ’Kay?”

 

Cady rests her head on Janis’s shoulder, exhaling nervously. “Yeah. Okay. So. I guess I’ll just say it… Um. I’m bi.”

 

Her voice cracks, but Janis’s smile takes up her whole face. She looks down at Cady, something warm and bright bursting in her chest. Obviously it doesn’t mean Cady has a thing for her, not that that would matter since Janis _isn’t_ into Cady, but still. Cady likes girls. Cady likes girls, and Janis likes girls, and that unites them.

 

“Okay,” Janis says softly, since Cady’s waiting for a response. “That’s pretty grool, Caddy.”

 

Cady hums and tucks her face into Janis’s shoulder, disappearing. “I feel weird.”

 

“Why?” Janis laughs. “Don’t feel weird. It’s just me. Thanks for telling me.”

 

 _I think I kinda like girls, too,_ Regina had said. Janis is gutted with the distinction between Cady’s voice and the memory of Regina’s—Cady spoke with conviction, with pride. Regina’s words, that entire spiel about liking Janis back, it lacked what Cady’s possesses. It was something Janis didn’t know was missing until now, hearing someone who is actually not straight admit it out loud. Regina doesn’t know what kind of courage that takes.

 

Janis kisses the top of Cady’s head. “I love you,” she murmurs. “And I’m not mad you’re just now telling me. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cady sniffs. “I love you, too. A heck of a lot.”

 

Janis doesn’t know what else to say. As happy as she is to hear it, and as happy as she is for Cady, there’s an emptiness in her chest that just aches. She didn’t get a soft, undramatic coming out with the person she thought was her best friend.

 

Cady lifts her head then, and their faces are closer than Janis thought. Something lurches in her stomach, catches in her chest. A pulse of longing, stronger than the flutters of curiosity she felt that day in the girls’ restroom or last Thursday in the dressing room at Macy’s. Like it means something this time.

 

Cady’s eyes are on Janis’s mouth and Janis can’t breathe.

 

Regina tasted like bubblegum. Janis is terrified Cady will taste the same.

 

Janis pulls her head away and looks down at their still-linked hands. Cady tugs hers free then slides off Janis’s bed to lay down on hers again. The atmosphere shifts, tense and awkward. Janis’s pulse thrums like a drumbeat in her ears as she shuts her lamp off, cloaking the room in darkness, and crawls under the covers. She turns to face the wall, eyes wide open. Neither of them speak. Even an hour later, Janis can sense Cady isn’t asleep.

 

 _I’m sorry,_ she wants to tell her. _I’m sorry she made me like this._

 

Regina ruins everything. Despite not having a say in any of this, she still ruined it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, so we’re clear: regina is straight. she’s not bi, gay, or queer. she is straight, and took advantage of janis despite that.
> 
> if you have questions please do not hesitate to shoot me an ask on tumblr!


	20. pt 3: ch 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 more + an epilogue. dang
> 
>  **CH20 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  mentions of sexual assault/rape  
> lesbophobia  
> abuse mention  
> self harm

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### twenty

 

 

 

Karen ambles alongside Cady as they walk back to Cady’s house from school. She’s quiet for once, but is tagging along out of concern since Cady looks shell-shocked. It’s not every day you find out your best friend may or may not have had consensual or nonconsensual sex with the person you’re trying to eliminate.

 

“I would’ve told you if I’d known,” Karen is saying. “But Regina’s never mentioned it. Whatever it was. I mean, she shit talks Janis a lot, but she hasn’t brought that up to me even once.” She touches Cady’s arm compassionately. “What’re you thinking?”

 

“I think,” Cady responds hollowly, “Regina George is a monster.”

 

Suddenly she loses sensation in her legs and has to sit down on a nearby bench. Shuddering, she grips the arm rest and inhales the crisp November air, feeling dizzy. She is joined by Karen, who watches her with wide, worried eyes. She tries to just breathe for a few minutes, nauseated.

 

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Karen murmurs uneasily. “If it’s true.”

 

Cady leans back, staring up through the tree branches swooping above them. “Yeah, Karen. It’s pretty bad.”

 

* * *

 

Cady is too numb to be surprised at how much she both enjoys and appreciates Karen’s company. Karen lays on her bed taking selfies with Wilson as Cady scrolls through Tumblr at her desk. Her chest constricts whenever she sees Janis’s username from something she reblogged.

 

Health class has touched on sexual assault before, but it’s always about how to protect yourself from entitled boys who can’t take no for answer. Girls can’t be rapists. Girls are always the victims. Girls couldn’t possibly force themselves on other girls.

 

It’s a layered issue and Cady doesn’t have the mental capacity to think about it as a whole right now, so her focus is on the fact Regina and Janis apparently had sex. But it wasn’t sex if Janis didn’t consent to it. But Cady doesn’t know if Janis consented or not. The secret could just be that they had sex and Regina doesn’t want people to know that, since clearly she’s homophobic enough to out Janis and use her sexuality against her. She wouldn’t want people to know they both willingly participated in it. She may have outed Janis later and claimed Janis groped her to divert suspicion and put lesbians in a bad light, but people would turn on Regina, too, if they knew it was just sex. Cady’s uncertain what to truly make of it, and going back and forth gives her a headache.

 

On the one hand, she’d sincerely hope Janis wanted to do it, or else that would mean… Well, Cady can’t stomach the thought. Still, she’d rather the shameful secret be that she had sex with Regina, and that’s that. Because if it wasn’t sex, it’s the other thing, and that’s even worse.

 

“Regina’s straight, right?” Cady asks Karen, going to Wikipedia. “Like Gretchen said?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Karen drawls. “There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s hetero. All she talks about are guys. And she once said Janis had a mental disorder and that’s why she’s a lesbian. Which is bullshit,” for Cady had turned in her chair to listen, “because even I know that’s not how it works. One time I told Regina that maybe Janis being gay isn’t such a bad thing, and she tore up the jumpsuit I’d just bought. It was really cute.” Karen pouts at the devastating loss of her outfit.

 

“Yikes. Thanks for sticking up for Janis, though,” Cady says, smiling a little. “Means a lot, as her friend.”

 

“Well, sure,” Karen chirps, scratching Wilson’s belly. “I don’t have a problem with gay people. It’s Regina who has all the problems.” She rolls her eyes. “It makes me sad to hear her talk about people like that. But telling her she’s wrong never ends well for me.”

 

Cady pauses from reading the page to turn back to Karen, hesitating before asking, “Does she really make you…lose weight?”

 

“Yeah,” Karen sighs glumly. “I mean, she’s not wrong, I could stand to lose a few pounds.” Karen is tall and skinny. Her arms are even thinner than Cady’s. “But it’s not fun, losing weight because your friend wants you to. Sometimes she won’t let me leave the bathroom until I make myself puke.”

 

“Karen, that’s serious,” Cady points out, horrified. “She’s—that’s not okay.”

 

“I know it isn’t,” Karen replies, audibly holding back tears. “But it’s not like I can just walk out of the Plastics. Regina would strangle me in front of everyone at lunch if I said I didn’t want to be a Plastic anymore. And she knows I don’t have the guts to, y’know, always call her out on everything. And I don’t like going along with the stuff she gets up to. It doesn’t make me feel like a good person. But I’m not strong enough to do anything.”

 

Cady goes to her, climbing onto the bed and sitting in front of her. “Karen. Look at me,” she coaxes gently, and waits until Karen lifts her shameful eyes to continue. “Regina is a leech. She’s a parasite, a predator. She stalks the halls looking for her next victim, and also takes things out on you, and that’s not fair. You’re a victim of her bullshit as well. Being a Plastic to protect yourself doesn’t make what she does to you fair. If she is destroying your things, making you feel bad about your body, literally forcing you to _lose weight_ , if she talks down to you and belittles your worth as a person, that isn’t justified because you hang out with her. And you are not weak for struggling to escape it. And I’m sure it’s confusing, feeling safer with her than without her, because with her you know what to expect—without her she’s unpredictable.”

 

Karen nods, slowly processing all that. Cady reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ears, noticing how they’re pierced but she isn’t wearing earrings. Maybe now Regina is dealing with the backlash from cheating on Aaron she spends less time picking apart her friends and deciding how they look. Cady feels a surge of pride for Karen for being brave and not wearing earrings even though she risked Regina noticing.

 

Standing up to your abuser in little ways still count, and for Karen it must’ve been an empowering choice.

 

“Do you think,” Karen begins quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, “do you think when this is all over, and—and we somehow get Regina kicked out, do you think I’ll be able to be my own person? Because I used to be, and I miss it. And I miss eating mac and cheese.”

 

Cady laughs softly, taking Karen’s hand. “You are capable of being whoever you want. To quote Winnie the Pooh—you’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Once Regina’s out of our lives forever, it’ll be really freeing to find yourself again. And eat all the mac and cheese you want.”

 

Karen smiles gingerly, touched by the sentiment. This mission to ruin Regina’s life and get her expelled is more than just revenge for Janis; at this point, it’s for anyone who has been personally affected by her schemes, her lies, and her abuse. The guilt over secretly betraying Janis after promising her this wouldn’t happen subsides a little more each day, the closer they get to victory.

 

Cady is sure when it’s all said and done, Janis will be glad something was done about Regina. Cady doesn’t blame her or judge her anymore for not wanting to help—this is tough work, and her personal attachment to Regina differs from Karen’s so greatly it makes sense why she’d be apprehensive over taking her down. Janis has also witnessed firsthand what Regina can do, and it’s terrifying. So Cady is grateful she found allies in Karen and Aaron, or else she wouldn’t be able to do it by herself. She’s glad Janis is staying out of it. It’s safer that way.

 

If it were to blow up in their faces tomorrow, Cady will be able to say Janis had nothing to do with it. Janis may have spurred the notion but it’s so much bigger than her now. Regina needs to be toppled, and when she’s sprawled on the ground she’ll finally know what it’s like to be stepped on.

 

* * *

 

Cady’s phone dings with a text several minutes after Karen leaves later that evening. Cady smiles at the cute photo Janis sent of her with her father and his girlfriend. Cady is relieved that she seems to be having fun, and her heart flutters over how gorgeous she looks.

 

“Cady?” her mother’s voice drifts down from upstairs. “Can you come up here?”

 

“Yeah,” Cady mumbles, only having time to favorite Janis’s photo before slipping her phone into her back pocket and begrudgingly going to see her mother. Mrs. Heron is in her room, seated on the floor as she paints her nails. Cady lingers in the doorway.

 

“Hi,” Mrs. Heron greets casually. “C’mere, sit with me. Sit down.”

 

Cady pads across the carpet to sit next to her mom, and waits for her to say something. She’s been going the extra mile to make her voice heard for ages now, so she’ll sit here and wait until her mother makes the effort to either listen or say something worth hearing in return.

 

“You have a good day?” Mrs. Heron asks, blowing on her nails.

 

“Yeah,” Cady fibs. “Janis is at dinner with her dad and his girlfriend. And Damian’s leaving tomorrow to go visit family for Thanksgiving.”

 

“Cool. Where’s he going? And how’s Janis feeling about the girlfriend thing?”

 

“He’s going to Kansas City, I think. And Janis was kind of hesitant about it, just because it’s awkward, but she sent a pic and seems to be having a good time.” She retrieves her phone and pulls up the photo to show her mother. “So, fingers crossed.”

 

“She looks lovely,” Mrs. Heron praises, and Cady nods in agreement. “You helped her pick out that dress?”

 

“Uh-huh.” Cady looks at Janis’s face probably longer than she should in front of her mom, then puts her phone down before she starts drooling. She leans back against the bed behind them, tucking her hands between her knees, aware her face is warm but hoping it isn’t too red.

 

Mrs. Heron doesn’t seem to notice, and they sit in silence for a minute as she polishes her toenails next. They used to do it together, but haven’t recently. Cady hasn’t done her nails on her own because for one, she’s been busy, and she really doesn’t care much about having pretty painted nails. It’s just another thing her mom made her enjoy. Cady knows her situation is different than Karen’s, but the parallels are striking nonetheless—an authority figure having a say in what they do, what they like, how they look. And only just recently have they begun to fight back against being used.

 

“Karen seems sweet,” Mrs. Heron muses conversationally. “How did you two start hanging out? Oh, your project, that’s right.”

 

“Yeah,” Cady says, briefly thrown because she forgot that was the excuse Karen gave. “Yeah, she’s great.”

 

“You getting bored of your old friends already?” Mrs. Heron teases.

 

Cady snorts. “No. But I can make new friends. Karen’s fun to hang out with.”

 

“I had a friend who looked like her in high school,” Mrs. Heron tells her, and Cady resists the urge to throw her hands up in exasperation. “Different personality, but she was tall and blonde, too. Carolyn, her name was. Gosh, I haven’t talked to her in forever. I’ll have to stalk her on Facebook.”

 

“What were you like when you were my age?” Cady murmurs, almost afraid to find out.

 

“Oh, a lot like you,” Mrs. Heron answers absently, and Cady isn’t surprised in the slightest. “Studious and friendly. Didn’t _have_ too many friends, though. Your aunts were my best friends. Us sisters had to stick together, especially in our household.”

 

Cady doesn’t know her maternal grandmother very well, since she lives in Nevada. She corresponds with her aunts via email on occasion. The Herons visit them and not her grandmother—admittedly, she never asks questions about her because she forgets she exists, and her mother doesn’t talk about her unprompted.

 

“My mom was kinda willy-nilly with us growing up,” Mrs. Heron is saying. “She was a single mom trying to raise three girls, so we had to fend for ourselves sometimes. And I’m the oldest, so I was sorta the second mom to my sisters. I’d make dinner and do the laundry and dress them for school and stuff. My mom did that too, but she came to rely on me for a lot of things, especially as I got older. She never remarried so we didn’t have a man of the house to help out. And I couldn’t go to college til both my sisters graduated from high school, so I didn’t get in to vet school until I was almost twenty-one.”

 

Cady’s mildly in shock. She’s literally never heard any of this before. “Wow,” she breathes. “I didn’t know that.”

 

“Yup,” Mrs. Heron says curtly. “So. Mom didn’t come to my wedding, also.”

 

Cady actually gasps. “She didn’t? What, did her invite get lost in the mail?”

 

Mrs. Heron laughs. “No, she got the damn invite. She was mad that I got married in my late twenties and was going to be a vet instead of a housewife and a mom. As if she really had any place to say when her life turned out the way it did. Back then it wasn’t common for a single woman to have three kids, two by different fathers, and she got a lot of hassle for it. So why she was mad I was doing what I wanted to do, to work in a field that I loved _with_ my husband… I don’t know.”

 

“Maybe it was because she couldn’t control what you did anymore,” Cady suggests meekly, and receives a sharp look. “Like, if she used you to help raise your own sisters, she probably was hoping she’d have a say in what you went to school for, maybe even who you married. If she had such little control in her own life, maybe she just wanted to be overtly involved in yours. But you grew up, and she realized she couldn’t tell you what to do anymore. And that pissed her off, so she protested by refusing to attend a wedding she didn’t get to put together for you. Maybe it was better that way.”

 

Silence settles and for once Cady doesn’t have the courage to look at her mother’s reaction. When it’s personal like that, she loses her grip on her confidence. But she said it, and it sounds like a plausible explanation. It was easy when she merely applied her vision of her own mom to it.

 

Mrs. Heron resumes painting her toes, and Cady notices how her hand quivers, just the slightest bit. “But that doesn’t make it okay,” Cady continues softly. “Being told what to do is never fun, but it gets old when that’s your life. And when you’re given these ridiculously high expectations, you have to perform to be deemed worthy of praise. And I personally don’t like that. Because I’m smart as I can possibly be, and I still feel like it’s…not enough for you sometimes. You want me to be better than you were at my age because you want to make up for what your mom lacked. But that only hurts me. It’s damaged how I look at myself. And I—I don’t like the pressure. I don’t like that I have to go to school to get away from you, because even at this prestigious private school, their expectations still aren’t as damn high as yours. So it’s almost a relief for me to walk into that building each day knowing _somebody_ thinks I’m good enough.”

 

Cady swipes stray tears from her cheeks and gets to her feet. “So. Reflect on your own teenage experience a little, then try to tell me you haven’t had your hands in my life because you’re just an overprotective mom. You want me to be the perfect girl you weren’t back then. But I want to be my own person, just like you.”

 

She leaves without waiting for a response, and she grins a little to herself despite her tears.

 

* * *

 

The last time Cady was in this diner, she was sipping milkshakes with Damian and Janis.

 

Today she sits in a booth next to Karen with Aaron across from them, and she’s feeling too sick to eat anything but the cherry in Karen’s shake.

 

Aaron can tell something is up, but Cady is debating over whether or not to bring up Janis. She wishes she could ask him if Regina’s sexual behaviors were anything out of the ordinary, but that’s not something you can appropriately ask your friend.

 

“I kinda can’t believe our plan is working,” Aaron is saying, mystified.

 

“I can,” Karen chirps. “It’s been fun to watch Gretchen and Regina go at it. They’re always so close and now Regina hates Gretchen. Regina doesn’t get why Gretchen ‘told’ you about her and Shane, but it’s funny that she doesn’t doubt Gretchen did it. Regina’s been telling me all sorts of stuff lately, now that she doesn’t have Gretchen to keep her secrets. She’s still sleeping with Shane, by the way, Aaron, even though she wants to win you back.”

 

Aaron shakes his head, bewildered. “I don’t get how that girl thinks.”

 

“Sometimes being stupid and defenseless pays off,” Karen muses optimistically. “Because nobody ever suspects the idiot will outsmart Regina.”

 

Cady rubs Karen’s arm. “Remember what I said. You’re smarter than you think.”

 

Building up Karen’s confidence and self-esteem is next on Cady’s to-do list. When this is done, she hopes Karen and Janis can be friends. She knows the two of them have a short history, and hopes Karen can make up for whatever she did years ago.

 

Later as Karen is purchasing movie tickets at the window, Cady hangs back, earning a concerned look from Aaron. “You okay?”

 

Cady takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I…found out some stuff yesterday and it’s been bugging me.”

 

Aaron raises his eyebrows. “What kind of stuff? About Regina?”

 

Cady hesitates, biting her lip. She looks at Aaron’s open, tentatively curious face. She could tell him, right? She could ask if Regina’s mentioned it to him or what exactly she told him about Janis. But at the same time, this isn’t a game anymore. If Regina hurt Janis (Cady can’t think the actual word), most likely Janis wouldn’t want anyone to know which is probably why she’s never freaking brought it up to Cady. It’s not Cady’s secret to share, not even with Aaron.

 

“Ah—no, just stuff about my mom,” Cady lies, and Aaron relaxes, but still looks worried about her. “It’s no big deal. Just—thanks, Karen,” for Karen had returned and offered them their ticket stubs, “just stuff from when she was younger that she’d never told me.”

 

It’s not entirely a lie that something has been bothering her. But it goes back and forth in her head with Janis like a ping-pong match.

 

“Who’re we talking about?” Karen asks absently, rummaging in her purse for the candy bar she’d hidden.

 

“My mom. But it’s no big deal.” Cady shrugs. “Come on, let’s go get popcorn. And not think about Regina for an hour and forty-five minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Cady’s mom is working all day Sunday, so she has the house to herself. She sleeps in until noon, lays in bed for an hour on her phone, then gradually hauls herself out of it to eat something. She only remembers her and Janis’s sleepover as she’s pouring a second bowl of cereal, and groans. She doesn’t really want to go, because she has no time to mentally prepare, to put herself in a good mood so Janis won’t be suspicious.

 

She allows her brain to stray towards the negativity, letting it consume her all day in hopes she’ll be better by tomorrow night. She wonders how she’ll fare being so close to Janis now that she knows what happened. She believes Janis when she said she and Regina kissed. But that was just the start of the story, and Cady found out the rest—not from Janis, though, which makes her stomach clench with guilt.

 

She almost feels like she’s violating Janis all on her own by knowing before she was supposed to know.

 

And then there’s her mother, whose life is all too similar to Cady’s, who was a maternal figure by the age of eleven and that manifested itself into the type of mom she grew up to be. She’s a product of her environment; her mother didn’t treat her fairly as she got older and panicked when she became her own person, and wouldn’t let her life be dictated by her after spending years being who her mother needed. Mrs. Heron just wanted to make her own way.

 

But in doing so, she yearned so much for the mother-daughter relationship she lacked, confining Cady to a box for sixteen years. She wanted Cady’s life to be just right and it had to be her doing, not Cady’s. She wanted the praise and the accolades for who Cady grew up to be, because her own mother wasn’t proud, nor content. So Cady gets it—it’s clearer now, and she understands. But being taken advantage of and neglected and unappreciated doesn’t mean she should get away with how she treats Cady. It’s not her place to say if Cady is smart enough, or where she’ll end up in life. It’s Cady’s path.

 

Her history might explain why she is the way she is, but that doesn’t excuse how she treats Cady. People don’t get free passes for doing bad things just because bad things have been done to them. Actions have consequences, every single time.

 

Cady tries not to think about what could happen if her plan falls through. She’ll face whatever consequences there are as long as Janis doesn’t get hurt. And perhaps there are exceptions to the rule—when it comes to people like Regina, sometimes you have to do whatever it takes to make it safer for others to exist.

 

Cady sits in the shower that night, her head full of fog, blood trickling from her thigh. She doesn’t feel it when she cuts anymore, too used to it. She doesn’t feel bad about it, either, which dimly surprises her. She hated herself when she first started doing it and she hated when she relapsed last month but she doesn’t feel anything about it at this very moment. It feels good. It calms her. All the bad in her head is being washed away down the drain.

 

She knows she shouldn’t do it. But it lessens the load of everything she’s carrying on her shoulders, and in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, crying: someone pls get these kiddos to a goddamn therapist


	21. pt 3: ch 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CH21 TRIGGER WARNINGS:**  
>  abuse mention

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### twenty-one

 

 

 

Cady was afraid of acting weird around Janis when it’s Janis who’s acting weird instead.

 

She’s tense and just radiates nervous energy. Cady wants to ask what her deal is, but the words die in her throat, unsure if she should bring attention to it or not. Cady tries to keep it casual, asking how dinner went, pleased to hear it was a success. She had faith it would be, and hopes things won’t be so awkward for Janis and Abby now going forward. Janis deserves to have a normal relationship with her.

 

The Regina situation is still on her mind, and she feels like she’s abandoned Damian and Janis in favor of hanging out with Karen and Aaron. Maybe that’s why the vibes in this basement are a little off, because perhaps Janis and Cady have forgotten how to just be around each other.

 

Cady’s ever-growing crush on Janis obviously doesn’t make things any easier. She doubts she’ll ever get used to the innocent touches or the platonic hand holding or looks that last for a second and give her false hope. And sometimes she just stares for too long because she wishes she could stare at Janis’s face forever. She wishes all of that meant something more than it does. But Janis doesn’t even know she’s bi.

 

 _What if you told her?_ a voice, eerily similar to Damian’s, suggests. _Tonight, what if you just told her?_

 

Cady has no vices with coming out, it’s coming out to _Janis_ that seems impossible for some strange reason. Janis would undoubtedly support her. She’d be excited for her. And they could bond over liking girls. Cady’s never had that; she’s never discussed the liking girls part of being bi with anyone. Even if she couldn’t be with Janis, they’d still be able to talk about how much they love women. Cady just wants that solidarity, to feel validated.

 

While Janis is in the bathroom before bed, Cady talks to Damian on FaceTime. Ironically, he’s hiding in a closet at his relative’s house so he can have some privacy from his cousins. He tells her about the trip and she tells him what she and Janis have been up to. He’s quite cheerful despite being left out of the sleepover.

 

“I don’t even care, I’m just happy you guys are together,” he drawls.

 

“Yeah, me too,” Cady says, and Janis comes back then. Cady tries not to let it show how she feels about seeing Janis’s bare legs in those sleep shorts. She deliberately did not pack the ones Janis lent her because she still likes sleeping in them.

 

Damian squeals in delight when he sees Janis, acting like she’s a celebrity. “Oh my God, I love your wooork,” he shouts. She flips him off.

 

Damian has to go a minute later, and Cady blows him lots of kisses prior to them hanging up. She lays down on her bed to mess around on her phone while Janis works on a sketch. Cady Googles articles on tips for coming out to friends who are also LGBT, heart racing at the possibility that tonight could be the night it happens. Selfishly, Cady wonders if…something else could happen. If telling Janis she’s bi opens a door they can both walk through.

 

Cady feels like if she was going to tell her, now is the perfect time. And perhaps keeping so many things from Janis right now makes her feel more obligated to share this, a secret and a truth that’s positive. To bring them closer together again like before.

 

Cady puts her phone down and rests her chin on the edge of Janis’s bed until she notices, then crawls up to sit next to her. Janis is finishing her drawing of the girls holding hands, and Cady smiles. She knows it’s supposed to be the two of them, and she hopes she can get a copy to put on her desk or something.

 

The words are there in Cady’s mouth, she just can’t say them. They sit in silence for a bit longer as she debates whether or not to go through with it. Janis is a good choice, Cady always knew the first person she came out to would be Janis. But now that she’s about to, she’s stuck.

 

“Um,” Cady says without making the conscious decision to speak. “Hey. Can I, uh…can I tell you something? It’s important.”

 

Okay. No turning back now. Janis puts her sketchpad on her nightstand so she can give Cady her full attention, and Cady’s heart races faster when she looks at her. She’s so unbelievably pretty. A bare-faced, damp-haired, sleepy eyed beauty.

 

She entwines their fingers as she rambles into it, comforted by the warm press of Janis’s palm against hers. Cady feels like she’s holding the universe in both their hands. It gives her a burst of strength she was waiting for, enough to finally say, head on Janis’s shoulder, “Yeah. Okay. So. I guess I’ll just say it… Um. I’m bi.”

 

She feels sick and amazing and light and heavy, all at the same time, and Janis is smiling. “Okay. That’s pretty grool, Caddy.”

 

Cady hides her face in her arm, squeezing her eyes shut. “I feel weird,” she admits.

 

“Why?” Janis laughs. “Don’t feel weird. It’s just me. Thanks for telling me.” After a pause, she kisses Cady’s hair, and Cady wants to scream or dance or jump with joy. It’s a relief, truly, to finally have it out there. It feels like freedom. Her entire body is buzzing with it.

 

“I love you,” Janis is saying. “And I’m not mad you’re just now telling me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Cady nods, sniffling, but knows it’s okay to cry. “I love you, too. A heck of a lot.”

 

They sit there just holding hands for a minute, then Cady lifts her head, not thinking anything of it. Their eyes meet and it feels different than all the other times. Time seems to slow down, turning seconds into years. The knob on that door turns, and it opens the slightest bit to let the light in. Cady’s eyes drop to Janis’s mouth of their own accord, and all she can hear is her pulse in her ears. Janis isn’t pulling away; whatever this means, whatever it is, she has to be feeling it, too.

 

Cady’s about to move closer when Janis abruptly turns her head, her dark hair curtaining the side of her face. She slackens her grip on Cady’s hand, and in her shock Cady belatedly pulls hers away, disconnecting them. Cheeks aflame, Cady slides off Janis’s bed to find refuge on hers, barely breathing. Head spinning, she lays down, uncertain if she should say something or just…let the silence get even worse.

 

Her voice is gone, anyway. Stripped from her by the disbelief. She was so close… _they_ were so close. But Janis didn’t want it. She didn’t want Cady.

 

Cady’s throat closes up and she’s glad Janis turns off the light a minute later, because it’s easier to hide your tears in the dark. She grapples for her phone, seeking any sort of distraction, her eyes welling with shame. Her entire body feels like it’s burning and her stomach hurts.

 

How stupid to think Janis would want to kiss her. Her life isn’t the perfect sapphic fairytale—she’d never get so lucky that her lesbian best friend liked her back. That’s not in the cards for Cady. Cady’s meant to topple queen bees and do it behind said best friend’s back. Cady’s meant to lie and keep secrets for the greater good. Cady’s meant to have the most gut-wrenching, dizzying crush ever and even coming out doesn’t mean something was bound to happen between them.

 

She’s still awake an hour later, and senses Janis is, too. She regrets everything.

 

* * *

 

Cady wakes up at noon to discover Janis’s bed is empty. For a moment she wonders if the presence beside her is Janis, but then she cracks open her eyes a bit further and sees it’s just Ollie. She pets him in greeting, and he purrs lethargically.

 

Cady makes her way downstairs, and the kitchen and living room are unoccupied because Janis’s father is at work. Cady beelines for the basement door, knowing Janis is down there. The sound of the TV drifts up the stairs and she descends carefully, spotting Janis curled up on the couch.

 

Cady goes and sits in the recliner, and Janis doesn’t even acknowledge her. That stings.

 

They sit and watch morning cartoons for half an hour until someone’s stomach growls, and Janis huffs a laugh. “I’m too lazy to make us something,” she mumbles around a yawn. “You can have cereal or Pop-Tarts or whatever. Help yourself.”

 

“Thanks. Do you want anything?” Cady doesn’t mean to sound annoyed, but it comes out that way.

 

“No,” Janis says with a shrug. Cady sighs and goes back upstairs, where she retrieves chocolate Pop-Tarts from the pantry then goes to watch TV in the living room instead of returning to her friend. She’s irritated and still embarrassed about last night and kind of wants to die.

 

Janis doesn’t come looking for her, which hurts. Cady can’t finish her Pop-Tarts.

 

They were supposed to hang out and have fun today but Cady honestly just wants to go home. So she gets dressed, deflates the blow-up bed and stuffs it in her backpack, and unplugs her phone from where it’s been charging. She’s headed for the door when her eyes fall on Janis’s sketchpad, still sitting there from last night. Cady knows how shitty it’d be to look through Janis’s artwork without her permission, but she just wants to see the sketch of them one more time before she leaves.

 

She gingerly picks up the pad of paper and thumbs through it, hoping to catch a glimpse of what she’s looking for without seeing anything else. When she finds it, she sinks onto the edge of Janis’s bed, scanning every detail, wanting it to be engraved in her memory.

 

She wishes she could go back and relive the start of September, when things weren’t so complicated. It feels like a million years ago. How has she only known Damian and Janis for two and a half months? It doesn’t seem possible. They are the kind of people who you meet, instantly get attached to, then wonder where they’ve been all your life because they’re just so wonderful and make you feel so happy and loved.

 

She’s flipping through Janis’s sketches without fathoming she’s doing so, only breaking out of thought when she realizes almost every page in this thing has a sketch of her on it. And if it isn’t Cady or the occasional one of Damian, it’s Cady and Janis together. They range from detailed drawings to cute Funko Pop style interpretations. But Cady is drawn on the majority of the paper, even one where Janis sketched what she looked like the morning after their first sleepover.

 

Cady quickly puts the sketchpad back on the nightstand and gets to her feet, heart pounding, hand over her mouth. Any other person might be weirded out by it, but Cady’s flattered and perplexed and overwhelmed that Janis frequently draws _her_ —Cady, specifically.

 

She wants to think that doesn’t mean anything, but she can’t lie to herself. At the risk of feeling arrogant, it makes sense somehow, and Cady’s stomach churns and churns as she leaves the room and descends the steps, wanting to cry again.

 

She’s just confused, so, so confused, and is going home whether Janis likes it or not, though she doesn’t think Janis is going to care. She leaves out the front door, without saying goodbye or letting Janis know she left. She retrieves her phone only to check the directions back to her house, walking in a weird panicky daze. Her body is anxious, but her mind is disconnecting from it all, putting her on autopilot. As soon as she gets home she plans to spend the rest of the day in the bathroom.

 

Aaron is actually waiting on her porch when she turns the corner and comes marching down the street. She halts when she sees him, then breaks into a run towards home. She jogs up the walkway and he’s coming to meet her halfway, only uttering half a greeting before Cady’s throwing herself at him. The hug catches him by surprise, then he returns it when he realizes she’s crying, and just needs someone to fucking hold her.

 

They stand there for a long time, Cady’s tears soaking into his jacket until there’s none left to cry.

 

* * *

 

When Cady stops crying, Aaron helps her inside, and takes the blanket from the foot of her bed to wrap it around her since they’d just been standing out in the cold. Aaron’s surprisingly gentle for a guy, though it’s probably only surprising to Cady because she’s had such little experience with them. (Damian doesn’t count because he’s gentle by nature simply because he knows what it’s like to be yourself and feel unsafe.)

 

Once Cady is seated at the foot of her bed, Aaron sits across from her in her desk chair. Perhaps it’s naïve to think he doesn’t have an ulterior motive, but Cady usually has a pretty accurate sense about people, and he has yet to prove her wrong. She’s not insecure or uncomfortable around Aaron at all, even now that they are alone together in a house where nobody else is home. Cady would’ve encouraged him to go home if she’d suspected he’d take advantage of that.

 

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks softly. “Where’d you come from, anyway?”

 

“Janis’s house,” Cady grumbles miserably, swiping at her eyes.

 

He raises his eyebrows, unaware of her and Janis’s history of disagreements and passive aggressive silences. “What happened?”

 

Cady shrugs. After last night, she isn’t sure she can come out to anyone else as freely as she hoped she would be after telling Janis. “Just something. She frustrates me so much. I feel like I’m being pulled in a bunch of different directions with her.”

 

Aaron nods sympathetically. “I felt that with Regina, too.”

 

It occurs to Cady then she doesn’t know what he was doing at her house to begin with. “Why are you here, anyway? Not that I mind.”

 

“Um—I don’t know, actually,” Aaron admits, rubbing his neck. “I guess I just wanted to see you. And talk about Regina, what our next move is. Karen texted and said they’re hanging out and she’ll keep us updated if something happens.” He sighs heavily. “I worry about that girl.”

 

They share a wry smile, and Cady laughs. “I do, too,” she murmurs. “The other day she was telling me about their relationship and it broke my heart. I can’t wait for Regina to just…be gone. If what we’re doing works, if we get a confession of some sort, she has to get expelled. Karen isn’t safe hanging around her. But she can’t abandon her—not yet, anyway. She still better slap Regina with a restraining order, though.”

 

“Yeah. I deleted me and Regina’s texts and her contact info from my phone the other day,” Aaron tells her. “And I blocked her number, because she’s been calling me every day whenever she can. I’m surprised I’ve managed to avoid her at school for this long. I’d almost think she’s afraid to approach me.”

 

“Imagine that,” Cady whispers. “Something Regina George is afraid of.”

 

“It’s not confrontation,” Aaron says, shaking his head. “Nah, that doesn’t scare her. She won’t talk to me in person because she has no reason to. She only puts in the effort to reach me on my phone, but doesn’t seek me out in public. Because she doesn’t really care.”

 

“She just wants you back so she can claim you as hers again,” Cady murmurs.

 

“Exactly. And…” He hesitates now, glancing out the window. He exhales before continuing. “Like, the only reason we dated, why I stayed with her up until she cheated, was because I really thought I could make her be a better person. But once she got me wrapped around her finger, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do. And I guess that’s on me for letting her…take control like that. It’s like, I slipped and fell and then kept letting Regina drag me up and around because I was afraid of falling again. But looking back, it would’ve been wiser to just yank my arm away and fall because, honestly, after all that I kind of prefer the ground.”

 

Cady waits until he’s done to say, “I’ll tell you what I told Karen. How Regina treated you—that’s not your fault. You were trying to make Regina be a better person because you’re good and that’s what good people do, they want to make the world a better place. But Regina taking control and using you as her sex toy, jewelry-buying puppet isn’t your fault. She’s responsible for her own actions, and she makes her own choices, many of which affect the people she claims to care about. She doesn’t care about Karen or Gretchen and she didn’t care about you. Or Janis. She only cares about herself.”

 

Aaron is quiet for a minute, thinking on that. “You’re right. And I know that. But part of me is, like, questioning whether or not I’m…you know, _man enough_ , just because she wasn’t always fair or even nice to me. She knew out of everyone in her corner that I was the least likely to call her out or get mad at her, because I was the boyfriend. She’d probably tell people I was the abusive one if I tried anything. So I never did, because she…she sorta took that away from me, I guess.”

 

“That doesn’t make you less of a guy,” Cady reminds him gently. “Guys can be mistreated in relationships, too. She had the power over you, not because you are weak, but because she convinced you she was stronger. But anybody who’s against her is stronger than she is. Because, y’know what? There’s one of her and plenty of us. And your experience isn’t less valid than Janis’s or Karen’s just because you’re a boy.”

 

Telling by the look in his eyes, nobody’s told him that. That what Regina put him through is just as important.

 

Something occurs to Cady then, and she gasps, sitting up straighter. “Wait,” she says, hands raised. “‘There’s one of her and plenty of us.’ There’s more than just Janis and Karen and you and me. Regina’s the school bully, we aren’t her only targets. We’re wasting our time waiting for her to implicate herself. It’s not Regina we should listen to—it’s everyone else. We don’t have to record her, we have to record them. Other people’s stories matter more than the one thing we’ve been waiting for Regina to say to get her expelled. She isn’t going to crack or say _anything_. But others might. If we can convince them to.”

 

Aaron looks flabbergasted none of them thought of this before. “Okay. Yeah. That—that makes sense. How would we talk to people, though?”

 

“We just—I don’t know, go around school asking people if they’ve ever been personally victimized by Regina George,” Cady barrels on, excited now. “We’ll tell them they’re welcome to come see us in the auditorium after school if they wanna talk about it—on the record, of course. Once they show up we’ll explain what we’re doing. We’ll assure them it’s just voices, no faces, no names, no grades. Because those things don’t matter. There’s only one name that needs to be said in these tapes, and that’s Regina’s. If we get enough people telling their stories about things she’s done to them…”

 

“That’d be valid proof to show whoever we need to talk to in order to take action against her,” Aaron murmurs pensively.

 

Cady covers her mouth with her hands, rocking back and forth eagerly. Her heart is racing, but out of delight. All they need is a few people, not including Karen or Aaron (or even Janis) if they chose to talk about Regina. All they need is a few more voices, speaking up and out against Regina.

 

“Do you really think people will go for it, though?” Aaron is asking hesitantly. “Like, don’t get me wrong, I agree and I think it’s a great idea and good things would come of it. But how many people are gonna be willing to talk about Regina?”

 

“More than we probably think,” Cady admits in earnest. “Once one person does it, they might tell their friends, and then their friends might have something to say. And it will spread throughout the school. I think since it’s concerning Regina nobody would be stupid enough to talk about it in front of her, and obviously Karen isn’t going to say, ‘You know what I heard people saying?’ And if Gretchen isn’t a Plastic anymore, she has no loyalty to Regina.”

 

Aaron breathes air from his cheeks and drums his palms against his knees. “Okay, then. We’ll brief Karen next time we see her.”

 

Cady nods, then slides off her bed to hug him again, and he squeezes her out of sheer gratitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so, i wasn’t initially going to do this but after trying to cram this fic + my upcoming 12 days of cadnis series onto my calendar, i decided it’d be best to put medicine on a tiny little hiatus. it’ll be back with part 4 starting on **saturday, january 5th!** also figured it would be nice for you guys to have a break from the angst and take it all in haha.
> 
> i hope you understand! apologies, but this will help lessen my anxiety during the holidays and give me a chance to focus on promoting my holiday stories. see y’all soon :)


	22. pt 4: ch 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are baaack! happy 2019, i hope you all had a lovely holiday break!
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  mentions of rape/sexual assault   
>  d slur

 

 

#  **PART FOUR: DECEMBER**

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### twenty-two

 

 

 

It’s been a week since school started again after Thanksgiving break, and in that time period around twenty people have come forward to talk about Regina.

 

Cady and Aaron began discreetly asking people, starting with the shyer kids, if they have ever had bad experiences with Regina. They explained they were putting together a case against her, and that they needed enough statements to be able to submit their evidence to the school board in hopes something can be done about her. Cady, who was hopeful at least one of them would want to participate, is over the moon with joy.

 

But because they’re doing it in secret, she can’t tell Damian or Janis. Especially not Janis, who she hasn’t spoken to or heard from since their sleepover. Cady’s over that by now—she’s mostly annoyed with Janis for being weird. If she’s embarrassed that they almost kissed, she could just tell Cady that instead of ignoring her. Cady doesn’t want to think about it too much, trying to channel her energy elsewhere.

 

She misses Janis regardless. Like, a lot. And at night she can’t stop thinking about all those drawings Janis has done of her.

 

As for Cady and her mother, things are turbulent and awkward as usual, and Cady has long since given up on her father finding some way to help. Frankly, he doesn’t seem too concerned—or surprised—that his close-knit wife and daughter are having their first fall-out in Cady’s entire life.

 

Damian is caught in the middle yet again, completely out of the loop this time because Cady hasn’t told him she’s bisexual and Janis obviously isn’t going to share that with him. He splits his time between the girls, but telling by the way he flops down at lunch across from Cady today he’s beginning to reach his wit’s end.

 

“Janis hasn’t sat with us for a week,” he pouts. “She’s eating in the freaking auditorium.”

 

Cady shrugs. “That’s her problem. I don’t know what her deal is.”

 

Which is a half-lie. Cady doesn’t know specifically why Janis is being so moody and distant (there could be other factors, since Cady hasn’t spoken to her in two weeks), but she knows it was spurred by their almost-kiss and Cady’s wordless departure the next day. Janis has no clue what to say after their awkward moment and neither does Cady—but they’ll talk about it eventually. They have to if Cady’s going to her art show.

 

Damian sighs dramatically. “I miss hanging out together, all three of us. It doesn’t feel the same anymore.”

 

“I know,” Cady murmurs, dropping her eyes to her lunch tray.

 

“I can’t believe tomorrow will be three months since school started,” Damian ponders wistfully. “Can we go back to September, when we were young and clueless and were not yet touched by life’s great horrors? Woe is me, Caddy dear.” He hides his face in his arm and touches her hand with the other.

 

“It’ll be okay, Damian,” Cady tries to soothe, but doesn’t sound convincing.

 

“I’ve tried asking her what’s wrong,” Damian continues, straightening back up and pouting. “But she either says she doesn’t wanna talk about it or she flat out ignores me. It has to do with your sleepover, doesn’t it? Something happened. What happened?”

 

“I already said I can’t talk about it,” Cady mumbles self-consciously.

 

He narrows his eyes at her. “Can’t or won’t?” he challenges, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

 

Janis switched with Taylor Wedell in chemistry, so Cady has to get used to a new partner. Taylor is a well-intentioned but absentminded chatterbox, and Cady usually winds up doing most of the work as Taylor gossips away in her ear for an hour.

 

“Oh, and I heard that Regina made Gretchen take out her extensions because she paid for them,” Taylor prattles, finally grabbing Cady’s attention. That might actually be a fact—Gretchen did show up at school after break with natural shoulder-length hair. Everybody knew she was wearing extensions.

 

“So I guess _that_ ship has sunk,” Taylor adds, shaking her head.

 

“Yeah. About damn time, honestly,” Cady murmurs, checking something in her textbook.

 

Taylor glances from her to Janis’s table, then back again, visibly hesitating before leaning in to whisper, “Are you and Sarkisian still friends? ’Cause she asked me to switch with her and didn’t tell me why. Did you guys get in a fight or something?”

 

“Something like that,” Cady mutters, and Taylor’s eyes get big.

 

“For the record, I’ve never been sure if I should believe that stuff about her and Regina,” she says, and Cady looks at her sharply. “Like, I dunno. It just sounded so weird to me, that Janis…y’know, did what Regina said. Like, it never sat right with me. But of course everyone believed it because they’d be stupid not to. It’s just funny how fast we all jumped on the let’s-hate-Janis bandwagon when half the guys in school have been accused of assault and no one cares.”

 

Taylor looks down at her hands, her jaw clenched. Her tone grew emotional as she spoke, and Cady puts a hand on her wrist, sensing she has more to say but is collecting her thoughts. When Taylor lifts her head again, her eyes are rimmed in red. “Like, it happened to me. And I went to the principal, I contacted the school board. Gave them a name and a grade and when it happened and where it happened. But he got off with a warning. He didn’t even get suspended. They just…let him waltz right back in like he still deserved to be there. And what did I get? A half-assed email saying sorry they couldn’t do more.”

 

Taylor’s chin quivers and Cady rubs her shoulder as she dabs at her eyes with her sleeve. “Sorry,” she laughs after a moment.

 

“No, don’t be sorry,” Cady assures her quickly. “It’s okay. I’m…” She clears her throat, tight with sadness for this girl. “I’m really sorry that happened. Your—your assault and how it was handled. You didn’t deserve any of it. That wasn’t fair.”

 

Taylor shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t,” she agrees thickly. “But only us victims see the injustice.”

 

Cady bites her lip, wavering. “Not just victims,” she murmurs comfortingly. “There’s other people out there who see you. You aren’t as invisible as you might think. And your pain doesn’t have to be explicitly shared for it to be felt by people who care that it happened to you.”

 

Taylor’s eyes well up again, so Cady pulls her into a sideways hug. Sometimes all people need is someone to not just hear them speak, but to listen.

 

* * *

 

Lost in thought, Cady doesn’t realize someone is following her home until she has to wait at a stop sign and feels them get closer.

 

She takes a deep breath before turning around, facing Janis for the first time in two weeks.

 

Janis is wearing the most uncomfortable expression Cady has ever seen, but she’s visibly trying to come up with an apology of some sort. Cady folds her arms and waits. It isn’t easy, forcing herself not to take the blame. But all she did was come out to Janis, they _both_ almost kissed the other, and now Janis is the one who won’t talk to her. It’s not like Cady _hasn’t_ been going to text her, then gets anxious about it and stops.

 

“I meant what I said,” Janis eventually murmurs. “That it’s—that you being bi, that’s cool. That’s not why I…”

 

She trails off, and Cady arches an eyebrow. “Why you’ve been avoiding me? I didn’t do anything wrong, Janis. I know we almost kissed and that was weird, but you freaked me out so much the next day. It felt like you were mad at _me_ or something. That’s why I left without saying goodbye.”

 

Janis closes her eyes. “No, I know. And that’s fine. I—I get it.”

 

A pause as she gathers her thoughts again. Cady hugs her middle for warmth, biting her cheek.

 

“I don’t know what happened, honestly,” Janis continues quietly. “I guess I…I pulled back because I started thinking about Regina. ’Cause I—the last time I kissed someone I was kissing her, and it was right after I came out to her. So, I panicked.”

 

Cady’s arms fall to her sides limply. She hadn’t even thought of that. Of course she hasn’t stopped thinking about what may or may not have happened to Janis, but wasn’t aware that, obviously, anything similar might be triggering for her. She knows for a fact Regina and Janis kissed right after Janis came out—obviously, _obviously_ , it would be at the forefront of Janis’s mind while Cady came out to her. So when they went to kiss, Janis got scared.

 

“Oh, Janis,” Cady moans, wanting to go to her and hug her but unsure if that’s okay. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even—I forgot. God, I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Janis soothes automatically. “It’s my stupid brain that freaked out, not yours.”

 

“You’re not a freak,” Cady tells her insistently, and Janis looks down at her feet. Cady steps forward then, reaching for her hand, linking their fingers. Their connected hands are always a burst of warmth in this cold weather. “And I understand. I’m sorry.”

 

Janis looks at her with remorseful eyes, but nods slightly. “Okay.”

 

Cady squeezes her hand, then lets go to loop her arm through Janis’s elbow. “Come to my house. I’ll make us hot chocolate.”

 

Janis cracks a smile, and they fall back into step without even trying.

 

* * *

 

“I guess I’ll have to ask Taylor to go back to having chemistry with Caitlyn,” Janis muses, blowing on her cocoa.

 

“You don’t have to, if it’s awkward,” Cady replies. “I like Taylor, she’s sweet.”

 

“I’ve never seen her cry,” Janis says hesitantly. “Is she okay?”

 

Cady sighs, wondering how much she’s allowed to share. “Yeah. We just were talking and…some stuff came up. Stuff I don’t think she talks about a whole lot.” She shrugs. “She told me she doesn’t believe what Regina has been saying about you. She thinks it’s bullshit.”

 

Janis seems equal parts dumbfounded and moved. “Oh. Well. That’s nice.”

 

“Yeah. So, I guess not everyone in school is part of the hivemind,” Cady says, thinking about all the people she’s met this week who proved that.

 

Janis looks over at her, taking a sip from her mug, but doesn’t say anything about that. Instead she asks if Cady’s still going to her art show, and Cady nods vigorously. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Miss Picasso,” she teases.

 

Janis snorts. “Hardly. I’m barely better than a third-grader.”

 

_I’ve seen your drawings. All the ones of me. A third-grader couldn’t do that._ “You’re better at it than you think, Janis.”

 

Janis sighs rigidly but doesn’t argue, knowing it’s a losing battle. “I just hate that I only got into art because of Regina,” she mutters, swirling her marshmallows with a spoon. “I wasn’t artistic or creative at all before that. I mean, I’d doodle sometimes, but it wasn’t my…passion, not until I had to go to therapy and art camp. I only got into North Shore because I’m smart or whatever.”

 

“Sometimes good things come out of bad situations,” Cady says softly. “Like, all that stuff that happened, it was bad and you got hurt. But because of it you found what you like to do. You could do it professionally one day. You didn’t know you had the skill until this summer.”

 

Janis shrugs. “Yeah. I just wish I’d discovered it without her.”

 

Which leads Cady to the realization she doesn’t have a passion (revenge doesn’t count). Calculus is her strongest and favorite subject, but it’s not like she is willingly doing it outside of school. She doesn’t draw or sing or dance or act. She doesn’t have a lot of mainstream interests like superhero movies or boy bands. She likes comedy shows and shows like _Stranger Things_ , but can’t find a passion out of those things.

 

“Jesus, Caddy. You look like someone just told you your dog died,” Janis is commenting, and snaps her fingers in front of her face.

 

“Gah! Sorry.” Cady shakes her head. “I just realized I don’t know who I am.”

 

Janis huffs a laugh. “What? You’re Cady Marie Heron, born January thirtieth, 2002, in Pasadena, California. You’re a math nerd and you have a dog named Wilson. You’re best friends with a dysfunctional gay guy and his lesbian art freak sidekick. And you make great hot chocolate.”

 

Cady’s heart flutters. Janis speaks with so much affection in her voice, it only further cements the reality those drawings of Cady mean something. You don’t draw your best friend a bunch of times for it to not mean something. Except Janis doesn’t know Cady saw her sketches. So Cady can’t bring up the topic of…them.

 

This entire time she’s only known what it’s like to be just friends. She’s both terrified and jubilant at the slim possibility there could be an upgraded version of them one day. Cady doesn’t know what kind of girlfriend she’d be, though. She’d probably tucker herself out trying to be the best girlfriend ever. After all the heartache Janis has endured, she deserves a happy, healthy relationship. Except Cady doesn’t deserve one with her.

 

Janis might never speak to her again after she goes public with the tapes. Only it’s more than just Janis now. Perhaps Cady initially wanted to do it for her, but now that she has talked to different people, it means more. And Janis doesn’t have to get involved. Cady isn’t planning on sitting her down and making her give her own testimony. Cady wouldn’t want that done to her, especially not when the wound is truly still so fresh. So she’s leaving Janis out of it for that reason.

 

Cady just wants to help people feel safe at school, and Janis isn’t the only one who’s been hurt by Regina in some way. Cady hopes that, if Janis’s reaction is negative, she will come around eventually. There’s nothing bad about Regina being gone.

 

Cady isn’t sure when this will all come to a head, but a feeling in her gut is saying soon. Sooner than she thinks.

 

* * *

 

Cady flags down Taylor Wedell at lunch the next day, waving her over when she spots her contemplating where to sit. She slides onto the bench next to Cady, smiling shyly at Janis and Damian, who look mildly offended but are trying not to be so they won’t hurt Taylor’s feelings.

 

“I didn’t want you ending up at…literally any table that isn’t ours,” Cady tells Taylor, glancing at the cliques seated at their respective tables.

 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Taylor breathes, hugging her. “Ugh. I always wind up at the Mathletes table because I think Kevin has a crush on me, so he invites me to sit with them, and I always feel bad saying no so it looks like I’m one of them when I’m not.”

 

“It’s okay to say no,” Janis pipes up quietly, trying to be gracious.

 

“Oh, I know,” Taylor says, deliberately avoiding anyone’s eyes. “But they don’t know that. At least, they act like they don’t.”

 

Cady rubs Taylor’s arm comfortingly, missing it when Janis’s eyes flare.

 

Something extremely weird and astonishing happens then in the form of Gretchen Wieners flouncing up to their table and barking at Janis, “Sarkisian. Move.” She looks like she’s been crying, but Cady’s twinge of pity is rather short-lived at the tone she takes with her friend.

 

Janis stares at Gretchen. “Beg your pardon, Wieners?” she deadpans.

 

“ _Move_ ,” Gretchen whines, stomping her foot. “I have nowhere else to sit. Please, just—let me sit here today. I’m starving and got kicked out of the library because I had food and Regina won’t let me sit with her anymore and I don’t have any _friends_ —”

 

“Well, that’s your problem, buddy,” Janis interrupts. “You shouldn’t have snitched to Aaron if you didn’t wanna end up alone.”

 

“ _I didn’t tell Aaron anything_!” Gretchen shrieks, silencing half the cafeteria. Janis shrinks under people’s wide-eyed stares. “I didn’t—I _didn’t_. He’s the lying liar who lied about that. Karen is more likely to have been the one to snitch, don’t you think? Don’t you all agree?” She raises her voice as she turns. Cady briefly makes eye contact with Karen from a distance, and Karen looks panicked. Regina is twirling a lock of hair around her finger, watching with a bored expression.

 

“Why would I snitch on Regina?” Gretchen laments to their peers. “Huh? What would I gain from that? I’ve been a good friend to you, Regina, and you just kicked me to the curb like I never meant anything to you at all. How do you _sleep_ at night?”

 

“Like Sleeping Beauty,” Regina calls back to her, grabbing her cheese fries and standing. She seizes Karen by the arm and yanks her up, and Karen cries out in pain. Cady gasps in horror, but is frozen where she sits. Regina hauls Karen away and they exit the cafeteria.

 

Gretchen slams her lunch tray on their table and flops down beside Taylor instead, who scoots closer to Cady to give her room. The cafeteria gradually returns to its typical chatter, but the Outcasts’ table is dead silent. Gretchen pushes her tray away to lay her head on her arms, and promptly begins to cry.

 

“What in the name of George Michael is happening here on this day?” Damian whispers, and that’s the end of that.

 

* * *

 

Gretchen essentially says _fuck it_ , because the next day at school people are abuzz.

 

Gretchen apparently went on Instagram the night before and uploaded screenshots of texts between her and Regina to her story. Texts where they talked about Shane and dissed Aaron and ruthlessly tore into Karen, calling her names and making fun of her IQ and her parents’ divorce. Regina would send her ideas and plans for things she felt like doing to people in school on any particular day. Janis, Cady, and Damian came up a lot. Prior to her breakup, she wanted to track Cady down and forcefully chop off all her hair, so “Aaron wouldn’t think she’s worth even looking at anymore.”

 

What disturbs Cady the most, though, is the texts where Regina talked about just Janis. Not only the derogatory stuff, but where she admitted she lied about what Janis did to her. Talking to Gretchen one night in March, she confessed the whole thing was made up to make Janis look bad, and asked Gretchen to keep telling people to further her plan along. She still called Janis a dyke in the same sentence and said she was glad to be rid of her because Janis was “getting too clingy” and it made Regina “uber uncomfy.”

 

Needless to say, neither Janis or Regina are at school on Wednesday.

 

Cady meets up with Aaron and Karen under the bleachers during break, and nobody says anything for a solid thirty seconds.

 

“I know Regina doesn’t like me,” Karen eventually says, slow and hurt, “but reading the things she thinks about me kinda sucked. I don’t get why she had to rope my parents into it. They’re nice people, they just don’t love each other anymore.”

 

Cady goes and gives her a hug. “Karen, I’m so sorry,” she murmurs into Karen’s fluffy coat.

 

Karen sniffs, chin on Cady’s shoulder. “Me too. Regina’s really mad and she won’t talk to me, either. I tried calling her—y’know, to seem like a good friend—and it just went to voicemail. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what this means. I wish she’d get hit by a bus or something.”

 

Cady squeezes her prior to pulling away to swipe the tears from Karen’s eyes. “Don’t we all.”

 

“Not to be even more of a downer,” Aaron begins, “but this probably won’t do our job for us. If word gets to the principal that Regina has threatened harm on anyone, she is most likely going to get off with a warning, because there’s no proof that she did those things. I mean, that’s what we’re _trying_ to prove, but the school’s not going to do a lot if nobody ever came forward when the harassment or the bullying actually happened.”

 

Cady sighs, hands linked with Karen’s. She leans her head on Karen’s chest. “I feel sick to my stomach,” she mumbles. “I mean, at least now everybody knows about Janis. They read in Regina’s own words that she lied about Janis assaulting her. So, that’s a good thing, I think. I’m just worried for Janis, she’s not here.”

 

Aaron shakes his head. “I’d say I hope Regina feels like shit for lying about being assaulted, but we all know she doesn’t.”

 

Karen sniffs. “Regina doesn’t care about anything. She’s not at school today because she’s probably plotting Gretchen’s murder. Gretchen’s gonna go missing then she will turn up dead on Christmas.” She pauses, then adds, “That’s my biggest fear, personally. Of that happening to me.”

 

“We won’t let her do that to anyone,” Cady assures her. “I promise.”

 

Karen hugs her again, sighing forlornly. “I really hope what we’re doing works. I dunno what I’ll do if people don’t care that Regina’s been hurting people this entire time. It’ll be, like, a slap in the face. And she slaps me all the time, so her not getting expelled would feel even worse. Because I’ll still have to be friends with her. And I can’t—I don’t wanna do that. I don’t wanna be her friend anymore. So this—this has to work.”

 

“It will,” Cady insists with all her might. “All we need is one person to hear what people are saying. Even one person could be enough.”

 

“I hope you’re right, Cady,” Karen murmurs. Cady hopes she’s right, too.


	23. pt 4: ch 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  sexual assault mention   
>  d slur/lesbophobia   
>  panic attacks

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### twenty-three

 

 

 

“It must be really bad if you won’t even tell me about it,” Damian sighs, sitting next to Janis on her basement couch.

 

Janis lifts a shoulder, still searching for something to watch on TV. It’s Sunday, her dad’s day off, and he’s spending it Christmas shopping with Abby. Damian invited himself over after an annoyed, grumpy Janis left his messages on read five times in a row.

 

“Cady’s not talking, either,” Damian continues, insulted that his two best friends aren’t coming to him for help.

 

“It isn’t her fault,” Janis mumbles sullenly, and that’s true. Cady didn’t do anything wrong. It’s Janis who doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions properly and so people get hurt and pushed away because of it. She’s just been feeling weird for two weeks, going back and forth between her discomfort at her memories of Regina and guilt over not kissing Cady. And then reeling because, what the hell, she and Cady almost kissed. But they didn’t because Janis let Regina get in the way.

 

She’s wondered incessantly what would’ve happened if they kissed. What Cady’s lips would feel like on hers, if it’d be just as awkward and humorous as first kisses should be. For Cady, anyway—Janis has already been kissed. By the devil.

 

Damian would have a field day if Janis told him what happened—or, what didn’t. The only reason she hasn’t is because Cady isn’t out to him and clearly it’s not Janis’s call, no matter how much she wants to vent. But he’d be ecstatic if he found out all his wildest dreams nearly came true.

 

Janis doesn’t know what to make of it. Yeah, okay, she’s attracted to Cady. She’s wildly attracted to Cady. She’s memorized every angle and plane of her face enough that she can sketch her without needing a reference. She has to physically restrain herself from playing with Cady’s hair when it’s just so curly and bouncy and soft. Holding her hand is often the highlight of Janis’s day. These are all little things that Janis has been aware of yet never thought twice about. She never thought about kissing Cady til the opportunity presented itself. And she let it slip through her fingers like sand.

 

So. Maybe she does have a thing for Cady. What’s scarier is that Cady might have a thing for her.

 

* * *

 

Janis feels like her apology wasn’t sufficient enough, but she was tired of missing Cady and wanted to ease Cady’s mind if she’s been thinking about it, too. She seemed to get it, though, when Janis told her the memory of Regina snuffed out any desire to kiss Cady. And of course Cady isn’t going to judge.

 

Janis wants to talk about the almost-kiss in general, but the words keep dying in her throat. They both see the elephant in the room but are too shy to bring it up. And Janis, who historically does not have good luck with telling girls she likes that she likes them, is glad in a way that neither of them are in a rush to discuss it. She needs more time, regardless. More time to pinpoint what she’s feeling and if it’s real and how she feels about her feelings being real.

 

Janis truly doesn’t know what she’d do if she had a girlfriend. Or if she’s even deserving of one, especially somebody like Cady, who gives and gives and gives without ever expecting anything in return. Janis can’t possibly compete with that.

 

She goes home that night and retrieves her rainbow Build-A-Bear from her closet, where she put it after their fight in October. She snuggles Berry as she lays in bed on her phone, scrolling through her album full of Cady pictures. Cady always seems happiest when she’s with her and Damian. Janis never thought she could make someone that happy. Regina certainly never made her feel like she was a good friend—she always wanted more from Janis. Janis doesn’t feel that with either of her friends. She may butt heads with Cady from time to time, but it’s not like her and Regina where they’d argue and then never talk it over. Something happens between her and Cady and they fix it at some point. Because they’re too important to each other to risk losing. Janis can’t lose Cady for good.

 

_You will if you can’t get your shit together,_ a scathing voice points out. _She’ll get tired of you like Regina was getting tired of you. That’s what happens—you tire people out, then cling to them when you feel like they’re slipping away. And then they finally do. But never without taking something from you first._

 

Her mom, sort of. Then Regina, definitely. Damian is rock solid at Janis’s side, but she’s scared of the day when Cady begins acting like she’s too good for Janis or just gets sick of her. Janis won’t let herself be dragged through the mud again—as soon as it happens, she’ll break away herself, to be spared of the inevitable. Maybe it’ll hurt less if she were to step back first. You can’t get hurt if you run from the blow.

 

* * *

 

At first, Janis thought Gretchen making a scene in the cafeteria was the most bizarre thing to happen this school year, but then she wakes up the following day to panicked texts from Damian, telling her to not come to school today if she knows what’s good for her.

 

She decides to just call him, too sleepy to text or even be alarmed just yet. He answers on the second ring. “Oh my God. Hi.”

 

“Hi,” Janis rasps, rubbing her eyes. “What’s goin’ on, man?”

 

“Um.” A pause as he hesitates, probably regretting that he accepted the call. “Okay, um… Did you see what Gretchen was posting on Instagram last night?” Janis makes a confused noise. “Okay, well. Um. She went on an exposing spree and posted a ton of screenshots of texts she had with Regina, and…some of the stuff was about you and it’s not all that pleasant so, uh, I just think it’d be wise for you to not show up today.”

 

Janis can’t believe what she’s hearing. “What kinda stuff about me?”

 

“Just—y’know. Regina just likes to talk shit,” Damian replies evasively. “But, um… One of the things Regina said was admitting she lied about what you supposedly did. So at least people are gonna know that she’s a disgusting liar who lied about sexual assault.”

 

Janis stares at her ceiling, dumbfounded. Her brain is still waking up, but she gets the gist of it. And she isn’t sure how to feel about it, honestly. She knows her truth—she’s past people thinking she did something to Regina, because thinking about it is exhausting. And she’s used to other girls shying away if she gets too close and she’s used to being called a gross dyke and she’s used to people believing everything Regina and Gretchen tell them.

 

Obviously it’s sort of a good thing that it’s out there now that Regina lied. Though it’s such a serious thing to lie about, and yet people are only going to focus on that and not those who have actually been assaulted and need support but were shunned and mocked when they asked for it. No one cares about victims. They still won’t, even as they look down on Regina for lying. They just want something to laugh at, and if it isn’t Janis for being a lesbian, it’s going to be Regina for getting exposed.

 

The thing is, no one actually likes Regina. In fact, most people at school downright hate her. But they kiss her ass to avoid being her next target. They see things happening to someone else and keep walking because they don’t want that to be them.

 

The teachers are completely useless, of course. Janis expects nothing of them and is still let down.

 

That’s why she doesn’t think Cady “getting revenge” on Regina would work, because the adults, out of everyone, just do not care. They have enough to deal with running a classroom and grading papers and putting together lessons. Regina could stab someone to death in front of a teacher and they’d _maybe_ send her to the principal’s office. It seems unlikely that any grownup at that school would care if Cady tried to do something that could get Regina in actual trouble.

 

Can’t get in trouble if the people who run the place don’t think you did anything wrong.

 

Stupid, ugly, backstabbing, privileged bottle-blonde bitch. It’s not that Janis doesn’t want her to face consequences, she just doesn’t think anybody will dish them out to her. That’s what Cady has never understood. She can try, but she can’t win.

 

Janis takes Damian’s advice and doesn’t even bother going to school. She rolls over and goes back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

As anticipated, Janis receives a lot of stares when she goes back to school the next day. She ignores them, hunching her shoulders and letting her hair fall in her face. She’s reminded of the first day back after spring break, when people were staring for semi-related reasons.

 

She hesitates a little prior to approaching her locker, half-expecting to see slurs written in sharpie. But there aren’t any, and there’s nothing waiting for her inside her locker, either. Her pulse still speeds up if someone looks at her wrong, though.

 

The Candy Cane Gram booth is set up in a corner in the cafeteria, and Janis actually debates over sending a secret one to Cady. Damian comes up to her as she’s staring at it, weighing the pros and cons in her head. His expression is very concerned. “How are we doing today, honey?” he asks, hand on her arm.

 

“Huh? Oh. I’m fine.” Janis shrugs. It’s not like she didn’t already know Regina shit talks her. And nobody’s been bugging her, either. So she doesn’t really have much to truly be mad about. She isn’t even upset people haven’t been coming up to her to say, _You know, we were wrong, and we’re sorry that Regina lied and made you look like a total creep and outed you._ Because she already knew no one gives a shit about _her_.

 

“Where’s Caddy?” Janis inquires, before Damian can play psychiatrist.

 

“I don’t know,” he says, looking around the cafeteria for some sign of her. “I keep missing her. Oh, wait, there she is.”

 

Janis turns around to see Cady walking in with Taylor Wedell, who apparently is sitting with them now. Janis doesn’t have anything against Taylor personally, and she does appreciate that Taylor never believed what Regina claimed, but the Outcasts consist of three people. Janis’s people. But at the risk of feeling like a Plastic, Janis can’t say it bothers her to let someone new sit with them. She just prefers routine over everything else. It keeps her sane.

 

Damian is side-eying Janis so hard his eyes are going to be sore. “Don’t look at me like that,” Janis mumbles, and forces herself to join Cady at their table.

 

Taylor is a sweetheart, really, even if she does talk a lot. She and Damian strike up a conversation as Janis picks at her lunch, her anxiety stemming her appetite. Cady isn’t visibly very hungry, either, and Janis wonders what’s on her mind.

 

Janis catches up with her in the hall on their way out of school later, bumping Cady’s shoulder good-naturedly. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” Cady responds, mustering a tiny smile. “How’re you?”

 

“Good,” Janis says in earnest, laughing when Cady looks delicately surprised. “What? Really, I’m fine.”

 

“Okay,” Cady says hesitantly, taking Janis’s hand. Which is actually a pretty risky move considering Janis’s amazing reputation. “Um, my mom is gonna walk me home, but I’ll call you later. If, y’know, you wanted to talk. I feel like we haven’t talked.”

 

Which is her way of saying _I miss you_. Janis smiles and nods her approval. “That’s fine. Are things, uh…getting better for you two?”

 

Cady looks down at her feet. “Not really,” she admits quietly. “But I’m trying to get through to her. She’s just so goddamn _stubborn_. I feel like a broken record. I just keep repeating myself, reiterating my point over and over again. I mean, she knows I’m not gonna put up with her shit anymore, so she’s relaxed a bit. But she still doesn’t wanna _talk_ to me. I think she’s scared of me, because she knows I’m right, that she hasn’t treated me fairly and I’m sick of it.”

 

Janis squeezes her hand. “Hey. I’m proud of you for sticking up for yourself.”

 

Cady shrugs. “I don’t feel good about it, not if I’m not making progress.”

 

“You will,” Janis assures her. “You can’t be on edge forever. She’ll come around and you guys will have to talk it through. I mean, it’s almost Christmas. You can’t not talk to each other on Christmas. You have to talk if you’re gonna buy each other stuff.”

 

Cady snorts. “I don’t even know what I want for Christmas. And my dad usually buys her stuff then says it’s from me, so I don’t really care.” She stops in front of the entrance. “I don’t wanna go home,” she murmurs, leaning her head on Janis’s shoulder, and she sounds small.

 

Janis feels bad for ever having been annoyed with Cady for not appreciating the fact she has a mom. If her mom was still around and caused this much emotional distress, Janis would be sick of it, too. But Cady doesn’t realize how strong she really is for pushing on and trying to make her mother see reason, for asserting her individuality—her self-worth, her right to make her own decisions, to tell her mom she isn’t being fair.

 

“Ew,” a voice sneers suddenly, shattering the moment. “Get a room if you’re gonna hang all over each other like that.”

 

Janis doesn’t give Regina the satisfaction of looking at her. She simply tugs on Cady’s hand and marches out into the snowy cold, and Regina calls after them, “You know, people finding out that I lied doesn’t change the fact you’re still a dyke!”

 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, you stupid bitch,” Janis hollers over her shoulder, and Cady’s hand flies to her mouth to muffle her laughter.

 

* * *

 

That isn’t to say Janis didn’t wrestle with her sexuality over the summer, because she did. At her lowest point, she wondered if she was really gay at all, and cried every day over how worthless and disgusting she felt. And what Regina told people cut deep—that hatred Regina had for women who love women, it made Janis feel the most inferior she’s ever felt. Like her being gay automatically meant she no longer had a sense of dignity or self. That people would always look at her and see a dirty dyke, a stupid ugly lesbian, that creepy girl who groped Regina George. Like that’s all that would matter to the world, that Janis was a lesbian.

 

Meeting Damian probably saved Janis’s life, and restored a piece of her sanity. He’s known he was gay since he was five, and has lived his life wanting people to know that because upholding the concept of pride is important to him. But he’s been picked on, harassed, and ostracized for it, so as soon as he stumbled upon Janis at art camp he just knew he had to help her. At first she resisted, naturally, not wanting to burden him with her troubles. But he persisted in the gentlest, kindest way possible, until she gave up avoiding him and spilled her guts to him one night down at the docks with their feet in the water.

 

After that, they were inseparable, and Janis finally had a friend who so sincerely and wholly understood what she was going through. It was strange, not playing pretend for approval and comfort. She could just be herself around him. It was—and still is—easy as breathing. Or like Damian is her lungs when she’s too exhausted, too spent, too in her own head to remember to breathe by herself. And she never has to worry she’s going to drown or slip too far under, because he’s there to keep her going. Her dad calls them kindred spirits, and Janis has to agree. Damian is half her soul.

 

The other half, she realizes later that night at around two AM as she’s trying to fall the fuck to sleep, is Cady.

 

She stares at her ceiling, imagining Cady’s stars are printed there, hugging her Build-A-Bear and vaguely hoping Cady still sleeps with hers. Janis swallows hard, her heart doing a funny skip thing as she compares her soft, platonic feelings towards Damian to the overwhelmingly romantic gooey stuff she feels for Cady.

 

Yuck, romance. It’s a slippery slope, one Janis has slipped on before. Maybe that’s why it’s taken so long to realize that, yeah, okay, she likes Cady. She’s always liked her. She’s liked her since September, if she’s being honest. Which is terrifying to admit. Because liking someone is dangerous.

 

The last girl she liked lied about liking her back. Then they kissed. Then they had sex that Janis isn’t too sure was real sex or if it was something different but she can’t think about it too much or else she’ll lose her sanity again because Regina, goddammit, Regina ruins _everything_.

 

And Janis is scared she’ll find a way to ruin her and Cady. Indirectly or on purpose, she’s scared Regina is going to break them apart before they’ve had a chance. Regina threw away all her chances. What could she do to Janis and Cady’s?

 

Janis snuggles Berry closer with a sigh, feeling just as small and alone and insignificant as she did the first night at art camp.

 

* * *

 

The week leading up to the start of winter break and Janis’s art show is busy and stressful. There’s winter finals and exams and everyone’s too hectic studying to make time to hang out, meaning Janis mostly only sees her friends at lunch. Abby is around to help decorate the house and Janis has gotten used to walking into the kitchen with Abby already there. So, things are good at home; Janis is still adjusting to the girlfriend thing but at least the girlfriend is a kind, dorky vegan.

 

When Janis shows up at school that Friday—the last day, blessedly—she’s immediately greeted with stares that differ from the ones she received a week ago. There’s both humor and mockery in some people’s eyes, and some unidentifiable thing in others’. Janis immediately feels exposed somehow.

 

She’s barely walked inside when her path is blocked by a couple nerdy guys, looking at her jealously. “You banged Regina George?” one of them says, in awe, and Janis is briefly disconnected from her body. She looks at him, through him, confused.

 

“Is she just as pretty naked?” the kid’s friend asks, and Janis robotically moves past them, struggling to breathe properly.

 

“Sarkisian!” some random person calls out as she hurries to homeroom. “How come Regina never mentioned she fucked you?”

 

Janis decidedly skips homeroom, then. She rushes to the nearest girls’ room and ducks inside, her entire body shaking, but not from the cold. She locks herself in a stall to sit on the closed toilet lid, her knees weak, chest heaving with panic.

 

Girls filter into the bathroom and she dimly processes their gossip. It’s all the same—one heard from another who heard from somebody else that Regina and Janis actually screwed last March. One girl theorizes that Regina’s so deep in the closet she felt like she had to lie about being assaulted. Someone suggests maybe Janis did coerce her into it after all. Besides, none of this came from Regina herself, so they’ll never really know for sure.

 

Janis presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. This is that day in March all over again. She locked herself in a bathroom stall, cried until she threw up, too scared to be seen. She didn’t understand why Regina was doing this to her, and today she doesn’t understand why fucking Gretchen had to go and talk.

 

Gretchen Wieners is undoubtedly the most selfish person to walk the planet, because if she had an ounce of critical thinking she would’ve kept this to herself. Because this harms Janis, too. Clearly she told people to get back at Regina. But Janis is caught in the crossfire.

 

But Janis doesn’t matter. Janis never mattered. Not to Regina, not to Gretchen, not to the other students at this awful school, not to the teachers, not to the school board. It took months of therapy to get Janis back to a place where she could function like a normal person again, and at this moment she feels like all that is being undone, like she is at square one, like no time has passed. But Janis’s suffering is guaranteed, because people don’t give a shit about her. She’s merely collateral damage.

 

Her trauma means nothing to them. It means nothing to the universe who put her through it to begin with. Her pain, her grief, her angst, none of that matters. Gretchen gets revenge on Regina for exposing what they did, like Janis is nothing more than something disposable and inconsequential. As long as it puts Regina in a bad light, who truly gives a shit. Let Gretchen spill every last one of Regina’s dirty little secrets.

 

One of them happens to be Janis. And she’s never felt dirtier.


	24. pt 4: ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s... The Chapter. marty i’m scared
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  lesbophobia

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### twenty-four

 

 

 

People are still talking about Regina and Gretchen’s texts, and Cady wishes she could stuff cotton in her ears.

 

“Of course everyone’s focusing on the stuff about Janis,” Taylor mutters as they walk to the cafeteria. “Regina literally said she’d cut off your hair and make Willow Hastings think her boyfriend was cheating on her, ironically enough. Like, she planned to do a bunch of stuff. And we know she probably actually _did_ do some of it.”

 

Cady hasn’t yet told Taylor what she’s been up to, but her stomach clenches at the reminder. She’s already heard about half the things Regina talked about doing, because the victims came forward to share it. It’s weird, knowing stuff in advance.

 

Cady is thinking too hard to eat her lunch, and is grateful that Taylor occupies Damian with a conversation about some Netflix show. She is vaguely aware that Janis keeps glancing at her, probably worried that she’s so quiet and not eating anything, but can’t escape from her buzzing head.

 

Later, as Janis is dragging Cady out of school after Regina caught them standing together, Cady is filled with pride for Janis over talking back to Regina’s face. She was not even aware of Regina’s presence until she spoke, but doesn’t feel weird at all, because Janis made sure to stomp out the potential embarrassment. Cady gives her a big hug before they part, and her mother takes note of her brightened mood.

 

“What in the world just happened?” Mrs. Heron asks, falling into step beside her daughter.

 

“Nothing,” Cady lies, giggling. “Um. Yeah, nothing. Just—sometimes people give Janis a hard time, so she stood up for herself just now.”

 

“Good for Janis,” Mrs. Heron hums, nodding. “People don’t pick on you, though, right?”

 

Cady shakes her head. For the most part, no. She’s basically invisible. “Nope. But I support her.”

 

_Just like she supports me standing up to you,_ Cady doesn’t add. She thinks about how Janis said she was proud of her for not giving up this ongoing battle with her mother. It’s nice to be encouraged by the person who once had conflicting feelings about their situations.

 

The rest of the walk home is quiet, and Cady’s energy dips considerably by the time they get there. She greets Wilson with hugs and smooches, then goes upstairs without saying another word to her mother, whose eyes she feels on her back until she shuts her door. She breathes through the waves of sudden anxiety, wishing this entire thing had been resolved when she first started calling her mother out.

 

Cady’s getting tired. So many things are happening all at once—she’s keeping secrets and doing things behind people’s backs and has to study for finals and knows things about Janis she probably shouldn’t know yet and may or may not have feelings for Janis and her mother is a nightmare and she just wants to sleep.

 

And so she goes to bed early later that evening, before the sun has fully gone down. She retrieves her Build-A-Bear cat from where it’s been sitting in her windowseat, oddly compelled to sleep with it tonight. It’s almost like Janis is there, and it comforts her enough she relaxes into slumber.

 

* * *

 

Janis isn’t in homeroom the next day, and Cady doesn’t understand why until the girl who sits behind her taps her on the shoulder.

 

“Where’s your friend?” she sneers, and Cady looks at her defensively.

 

“Janis? I don’t know,” she answers truthfully, and the girl snickers, heightening Cady’s anxiety.

 

“You better go look for her, then,” she suggests, but not because she cares. “I saw her earlier but I don’t know where she went. But did she tell you about her and Regina or did she keep that a secret from you, too? Gretchen told some people about it.”

 

Cady feels like her head is in a cloud, her ears plugged. “Huh?”

 

“You haven’t been listening to what people are saying?” the girl asks obnoxiously. “She and Regina screwed last spring. You’re her BFF, she didn’t tell you?”

 

“No,” Cady says hollowly, and turns back around so she won’t have to see the girl’s face anymore.

 

Cady glances over at Damian, and their eyes have met for barely longer than a second before they’re grabbing their bags and rushing out of class to find Janis. Since it isn’t plausible for Janis to have gotten very far if everyone’s talking, she’s most likely in the restroom nearest to the school entrance. Cady shoves the door open and barrels in—Damian follows, ignoring Sonja Acquino, who squawks in indignation.

 

“How many times do we have to tell you, this is the _girls’_ bathroom,” she shouts, and flicks water in his face before storming out.

 

“Danny Devito must not be having a good day,” Damian mutters, drying it with his sleeve.

 

“Janis?” Cady calls out tentatively, bending over to peek under stall doors. She doesn’t see feet, but that doesn’t mean Janis isn’t here. She walks to the very end of the row and just senses somebody is beyond the door, and taps on it lightly. “Janis? It’s Cady. And Damian. Open up.”

 

When Janis doesn’t respond, Cady shoves her bag at Damian and simply drops to her hands and knees to crawl under the door. Janis is sitting with her knees tucked up to her chest, face hidden. Cady unlocks the door and opens it for Damian, and he hastily hands her a wipe from the pack he keeps in his bag.

 

“Gross, gross, gross,” he whispers as Cady cleans her hands, gagging when she gives it back to him.

 

“Janis.” Cady grabs Janis’s shoulders, heart pounding. “Janis, look at me. It’s just me. It’s Cady. Damian’s here, too. There’s no one else in the bathroom. It’s just us. We’re here. We’re your friends, we won’t let anything happen to you. Okay? Janis?”

 

Janis lifts her head a little bit, and the resemblance she bears to a frightened black cat is staggering. Cady is gutted by how simultaneously empty and full of anguish Janis’s eyes are, and she’s never wanted to punch Gretchen Wieners in the face more than she does right now.

 

“Hey,” Cady whispers, rubbing her arm. “It’s okay. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

 

“Have…have you seen Regina?” Janis whispers, her voice hardly above a rasp.

 

“No,” Cady tells her softly. “No, but we’ll keep her away from you, I promise.”

 

Janis’s eyes fixate on Cady’s kind face, and Cady tries to smile so she won’t be so afraid. “Caddy,” is all Janis says, and her face crumples then, so Cady leans down to hug her. Janis tucks her face into her neck and Cady holds on to her tightly.

 

* * *

 

Janis is understandably miserable the rest of the day, and Cady is by her side every chance she can get. Regina is nowhere to be seen. People either stare at Janis or flat-out ask her super creepy and invasive things, then laugh when Cady tugs her away to safety. But there’s no safe spaces in this godforsaken school.

 

Cady’s been pretty well-behaved as far as not giving in to her violent urges, but the minute she lays eyes on Gretchen in the hall before lunch she is letting go of Janis in favor of marching through the crowd over to Gretchen. Damian calls after her to come back, but her blood is boiling.

 

Gretchen shrieks when Cady shoves her up against a locker, her head smacking against it, paralleling what Cady did to Regina on Halloween. “You selfish little brat,” Cady hisses as the people around them step back to watch with shocked, intrigued faces.

 

Gretchen squirms in Cady’s grip. “I did what I had to do!” she whines.

 

“At Janis’s expense? Fuck you.” Cady has never felt so angry in her life. “People aren’t just laughing at Regina, they’re shitting all over Janis again, too. Did you think about that before you went and told people what they did? And how do you even know Regina wasn’t the one who did something to Janis?”

 

Gretchen seems startled by that idea. “What are you _talking_ about? They had sex and now everyone knows _why_ Regina lied to make her look bad. And Sarkisian should be used to people talking about her. She’s acting like a dumb traumatized baby.”

 

“Maybe because this is kinda traumatizing, ever think of that?” Cady hollers, her voice not sounding like her own. “How would you feel if it was you, Gretchen? Huh? How’d you like it if some greedy bitch who wants to be petty reveals something you didn’t want people to know, just because it involves the person they’re mad at? Janis shouldn’t be collateral damage, Gretchen. It’s unfair to her. And you never had to say anything to begin with. You could’ve kept it to yourself. But you wanted to humiliate Regina that badly, huh? Because you think having sex with a girl is embarrassing and wrong? That Regina would be less than if she liked girls?”

 

“She _doesn’t_ ,” Gretchen insists, but that isn’t the point. “God, Heron, stop trying to make me look like a homophobe.” She pushes at Cady, and Cady finally steps back. “It’d be irrelevant if Regina was into girls, and she _isn’t_ , that’s why it should embarrass her she had sex with one.”

 

“You’re still implying there’s something wrong with that,” Cady hisses, and Gretchen fumbles as she tries to come up with an argument that doesn’t contradict itself. Shaking her head, Cady walks away, back toward her friends, and Damian ushers both her and Janis towards the cafeteria. Janis grabs Cady’s hand and it grips it so tightly it might break, but Cady squeezes back twice as hard, tears spilling onto her cheeks.

 

Perhaps it was fate that willed Gretchen to leak the big secret the day before break starts. Damian and Cady walk Janis home, and it’s a relief to know they don’t have to go back to school until January. Cady gets Janis situated on her basement couch and wraps her in a blanket while Damian makes cocoa upstairs. Janis hasn’t spoken a word, and her pale face is lined with fatigue and torment. She can’t look at Cady, but she still holds her hand.

 

As for Cady, she can’t believe any of this. But the worst part is that, evidently, what Gretchen told her and Karen first is true. She’s been going over it in her head nonstop; it makes her nauseous if she thinks about it for too long. Part of her hoped it wasn’t true, that she could ask Janis about it someday and Janis would give her an appalled look and say _no, Caddy, of course that’s not true_. But something happened to her. Cady can’t let go of that possibility, that something was done to her.

 

Telling by Janis’s reaction, Cady senses the actual truth is far worse.

 

* * *

 

“I haven’t seen or talked to Regina since last week,” Karen tells Cady, tapping into her texts. “She’s been at school, she’s just avoiding me.”

 

“It’s pretty telling how she hasn’t bothered to negate anything Gretchen’s been telling people,” Aaron murmurs.

 

It’s Saturday, they’re in Cady’s room in their usual spots, and Cady is still reeling from everything that’s happened recently. It feels like her head is full of fog. She was so tired she slept in until two PM today. But she didn’t have the heart to turn them down when they asked if they could come over.

 

“Why did Gretchen wait so long to tell people?” Karen is musing. “Like, if she really wanted to cause damage, she should’ve talked about it on Monday. Or even before then. I mean, she’s known for a while. She could’ve mentioned it three weeks ago.”

 

Cady sighs, rubbing her eyes and falling back onto her bedspread. “It doesn’t really matter, Karen.”

 

Karen sighs, but doesn’t push it. Cady’s head keeps spinning around in circles and she’s filled with sadness for Janis, who deserves so much better than this. Janis is worth more than just being a pawn in someone’s game. That’s why Cady has sought out different reasons for taking Regina down, rather than using Janis as the main drive for it, like she said she didn’t want to be. Janis can be mad at her, but not because Cady took advantage of her experience.

 

Karen and Aaron hang out at Cady’s until both their parents ask them to come home. While not in the best mood, Cady appreciates them spending time with her. They are her friends now, and she hopes when this Regina situation is over they’ll still want to hang out with her. There’s something different in their energy compared to Damian and Janis’s. Which isn’t bad, it’s just different, in a good way.

 

When Cady returns to her room, there’s a text from Damian waiting for her, and her heart drops into her stomach so fast it knocks the feeling from her legs.

 

 

“Oh no,” Cady says hollowly into her hand, a thrill of panic rushing through her. Oh, _fuck_. It’s the fifteenth. Janis’s art show.

 

_Janis’s art show_. Of all the freaking days to space out, it was today. Fuck.

 

Both her parents are still working, but she has to talk to Janis in person. She dons her boots and coat and rushes out the door, phone in hand as she texts Damian to let him know she’s on her way. He’s confused, but she assures him she’s fine, and that she’ll explain.

 

It’s freezing and getting darker, her surroundings tinged with blue, but lit up by all the decorations and lights. She is breathless from the cold by the time she gets to Janis’s, and knocks hastily on the basement door, panting while she waits.

 

Damian answers, looking relieved at first, then befuddled, then a little annoyed when he sees she’s not been in need of medical assistance. But he lets her in, and she sees Janis curled up on the couch. She’s wearing the black dress she bought, her heels discarded on the floor. She looks at Cady expectantly.

 

“Where were you?” she asks, her tone already dripping with hurt. Cady’s shoulders slump.

 

“I was—I was home,” she admits. “I…I don’t know, I was in a weird headspace today. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

Janis frowns, sitting up. “You couldn’t have told us that? So at least we wouldn’t worry?”

 

“Well, I didn’t think to,” Cady murmurs. “I slept in late and I’ve been super groggy, so I wasn’t thinking straight.”

 

Janis narrows her eyes, detecting the dishonesty. It’s half-true, but still weak. Cady can’t make eye contact, and perhaps that gives it away. Janis throws the blanket off and gets to her feet, folding her arms and fixing Cady with a doubtful look. She suddenly appears older, more mature.

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Caddy,” Janis whispers, and Cady shivers. “What happened?”

 

Cady can’t lie to her. Not anymore. Janis deserves some honesty for once, after everything that’s been going on. Consequences be damned, Cady takes a deep breath and says, “I _was_ at my house, but Karen and Aaron were hanging out with me.”

 

A beat of stunned silence. Then Damian scoffs and Janis says, “Karen Smith? And Aaron Samuels? Why were they at your house?”

 

Cady swallows, her throat suddenly dry. “They…I invited them over. We—we’re friends. After he broke up with Regina, we started talking more, and we’re…friends now. As for Karen, we sort of…teamed up. She came to my house to apologize for what happened at her party on Halloween, and we’ve been friends since.”

 

Janis stares at her indignantly. Damian huffs and flops into the recliner, speechless.

 

“Okay, aside from how weird that is, what was so important today you couldn’t hang out with them tomorrow?” Janis demands.

 

“We, uh… We were talking about Gretchen. Because, um…” Cady trails off, feeling lightheaded. “Okay, you’re gonna hate me for this, and I won’t blame you, but just listen. I asked Karen to spy on Regina for me. I had her record conversations amongst the Plastics in hopes we could get Regina on the record, talking about things she wanted to do to people. Or just spill some secret we could use against her. We’re the ones who told Aaron about Regina and Shane Oman, because Karen got audio of Regina telling her and Gretchen. And then Aaron joined our team and agreed to tell people Gretchen was the one who told him about it, to put strain on Gretchen and Regina’s friendship. And that worked, because obviously they’re not friends anymore, and they turned on each other.”

 

She lets that settle for a second, aware Damian is gaping at her. She studies her feet as she talks, afraid to look at Janis.

 

“And then, um… Well, we realized we couldn’t wait on Regina to implicate herself,” she continues carefully. “So me and Aaron started talking to people, asking if they would like to share their experiences with her. We’ve gotten almost thirty tapes so far of people talking about the awful things Regina has done or said to them. We’re still going to talk to people once school starts again, and once we feel like we have enough, we’re going to take the evidence to the principal. To get her expelled.”

 

Now she lifts her head, and Janis’s eyes are darker than yesterday, her red lips parted in shock. There’s a tense pause, then Janis laughs sarcastically for a minute, unable to believe her ears. She tilts her head at Cady, looking astonished. “It was you?” she says, and her abruptly shattered tone punches Cady in the stomach. “You started all of this? You and Karen Smith, of all fucking people? You set this in motion?”

 

Cady doesn’t know what to say. There’s another silence as Janis steadily begins to lose her grip on her anger, letting it roll off her shoulders in waves. “And you were having a little meeting at your house tonight, that’s why you missed my fucking art show? My painting won a prize, by the way.”

 

Cady’s hands are shaking. Her entire body feels disproportionate, out of place. Like she doesn’t belong in this basement anymore. She licks her lips but the words still aren’t coming to her, and she isn’t sure how to proceed. She feels sick.

 

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been keeping this a secret?” Janis prompts, flexing her fingers like she’s trying to keep from punching something.

 

“B-because I—I couldn’t _tell_ you,” Cady stammers, and Janis raises her eyebrows. “What? You told me not to start anything because you were afraid of getting involved, so I didn’t involve you. I’ve been working on this under the radar so nothing could rope you into it in case Regina found out and wanted to retaliate. That’s why I have Karen on the inside while me and Aaron collect testimonies from people. And if you heard some of the stories, you wouldn’t be so mad about us getting them, because I’m not gonna think it won’t amount to something just because you’re upset I got them.”

 

Janis looks at her for a moment, then yells, “Cady, I’m not gonna get mad about the fucking tapes. I mean, personally, I don’t think they’ll amount to anything because while people might be telling the truth, nobody on the fucking school board is going to give a shit if she’s guilty of anything. No, Cady, I’m not mad about the tapes. I’m mad you’re so self-righteous that you took matters into your own hands, _even after I warned you not to_ , even after I told you I didn’t wanna get hurt because of it—”

 

“Regina hasn’t done anything to you!” Cady shrieks. “You aren’t involved in any way, that’s why I kept it a secret!”

 

“Perhaps Regina didn’t fucking do shit, but Gretchen sure as hell did,” Janis retorts, and Cady’s blood runs cold. “Are you stupid? Did you just forget what’s been happening the last few weeks? First the text messages, then she fucking reveals to everyone me and Regina—that we—that we screwed. And…that’s all because of you, Cady.” Janis visibly deflates with disappointment. “I told you someone would get hurt if you tried anything, and _I did_.”

 

Oh. Cady hadn’t thought about that, clearly. This entire time, she was prepared for Regina to lash out, and expected to take the blow to keep Janis safe. But Janis is getting hurt anyway because Cady sabotaged Gretchen and Regina’s relationship.

 

“Oh, Janis,” she says dimly, leaning against the arm of the couch for support, feeling faint.

 

“Yeah. So, I don’t care about the tapes.” Janis barks a laugh, like she really does care. “Hell, I don’t even care that you’re buddies with Aaron and Karen. I’m mad that you’ve been lying to my face this whole time, under the impression you were doing it for the greater good, that you were doing it for _me_. But you aren’t doing it for me, Cady, you’re not even doing it for _them_. You’re doing it for yourself. Because you wanna be the hero, the girl who got Regina George kicked out of North Shore.”

 

Now Cady bristles, insulted by the suggestion she’s doing this for selfish reasons. “No, I’m not,” she defends irately. “Why would I do this for myself? I don’t care about being a hero. I just wanna remove a bully and an abuser from our school. Don’t stand there and act like you don’t want that, too! Especially after what she did to you, every single thing, from mistreating you all those years to manipulating you into having sex with her to fucking _outing you_ to everyone—”

 

“Wait, what?” Janis interrupts, looking ashen all of a sudden. “Regina didn’t make me have sex with her.”

 

It slipped out in her anger. Cady bites her lip to keep from saying anything further, knowing it’s a touchy subject.

 

Janis looks appalled at the idea she was taken advantage of. “Okay, you know what? Fuck you. Don’t throw my history with Regina in my face. I never said I wouldn’t be happy if karma caught up to her. Just—not because of you, or anything you did to make it bite her in the ass a little faster. My point is, you _are_ doing this for yourself and I’ll tell you why. You’ve said it yourself, you’ve been stuck in a box your whole life, your mom constantly breathing down your neck. So as soon as the opportunity presented itself for you to do something _bad_ , to rebel against someone telling you no, you jumped at it.

 

“And you can tell yourself it’s for me or for Regina’s victims or whoever. But you can’t pretend it doesn’t make you feel good to step outside that box, to make bad decisions, to be a rebel and say _fuck what other people think_. Because this _is_ about you—it’s more about you than you realize, Caddy. And it just makes you selfish, not selfless.”

 

Janis ends her speech by sinking back onto the couch. Cady is vibrating with fury, but she can’t deny Janis has somewhat of a point. But she’s still doing a good thing. And it _will_ work. Regina will get expelled and Janis will be glad to see her gone.

 

“Don’t tell me not to throw Regina in your face then do the same to me with my mom,” she hisses. “It’s not fucking about that.”

 

“Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that,” Janis answers huskily, hair shielding her face from view.

 

There’s evidently nothing more to say. Cady marches to the door and throws it open, storming out into the cold.

 

Halfway up the driveway, she hears a wretched shriek behind her, then a beat of silence, then a sob. She keeps walking.


	25. pt 4: ch 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  abuse mention   
>  suicide mention

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### twenty-five

 

 

 

Janis plucks at her dress, feeling like she’s gained weight since the last time she wore it. She redoes her makeup twice because she isn’t happy with it, still thinking she’s too pale, adding extra blush and wearing bold red lipstick courtesy of Abby. She styles her hair the same, losing the will to keep fussing with herself.

 

Her excitement for tonight has been snuffed out and replaced with the same dread she gets when her father hands her the phone to talk to a relative. She’s not mentally, or even physically, up for going, but she can’t cancel on such a huge deal.

 

Why her painting was accepted will forever remain a mystery to Janis. Ollie is great, but the painting isn’t.

 

Regina would call it mediocre. Probably toss it in a fire. And then throw Janis in with it.

 

Regina always liked playing with fire, and it wasn’t until they stopped being friends that Janis realized she was the one who always got burned.

 

Janis is quiet in the backseat of her dad’s car, texting with Damian to give her mind something to focus on. Honestly, Damian and Cady being there will do wonders for her. As long as she can hold Cady’s hand or be within touching distance with Damian, the night will go by swiftly and smoothly.

 

Damian is already at the gallery when they get there, and Janis sprints in her heels to hug him, the most energetic she’s felt today. She gives his mom a hug, too. She loves Ms. Hubbard so much, she _almost_ feels like an actual mom to Janis.

 

There’s no sign of Cady, though, and Janis doesn’t have time to text her because presentations are starting soon and she doesn’t want to be that person who’s late to their own event. They check in at the lobby and are guided to the display where Janis’s painting of Ollie is hung, and she leans self-consciously into Damian’s side.

 

Cady doesn’t show. Janis never gets a moment to check her texts because she’s talking to well-dressed art connoisseurs and doing her best to not be as painfully awkward as she feels. Occasionally she’ll catch her dad’s eye and his cheesy thumbs-up of reassurance is strangely comforting. Damian essentially plays the role of bodyguard, only his job is to protect Janis from getting too overwhelmed. But Cady should be there for moral support, too.

 

Cady promised she’d come. She was ecstatic when Janis told her this was happening, and this entire time Janis hasn’t any doubt that she’d show up. Something’s wrong—either with Cady or her family or, God forbid, Wilson. Any number of things could be keeping her from not only arriving, but texting Janis to let her know what’s up. Cady is a conscientious and punctual person, so Janis can’t imagine her choosing not to come.

 

Damian seems worried, too, and Janis is relieved when the whole thing is finally over. Her prize is a navy blue ribbon for Most Detailed Painting, and she plans to pin it right above Ollie’s bed in the basement. For now, she sticks it to Damian’s forehead and takes a picture, making it his new contact photo.

 

“I’m sorry Cady couldn’t make it, pumpkin,” Mr. Sarkisian says, putting an arm around Janis’s shoulders.

 

She shrugs. “It’s fine,” she sighs, even though it isn’t. “I just hope she’s okay.”

 

“I take it Cady isn’t the type to step out on friends,” Abby pipes up, concerned.

 

“Never,” Damian tells her, shaking his head. “She always keeps her promises.”

 

Damian rides back to Janis’s house with her while his mother heads home. “You gonna text her?” he asks Janis quietly. Abby turns up the radio to give them privacy.

 

“I dunno,” Janis admits, feeling weird about bugging Cady in case something is really wrong. All three of them sort of forgot about the art show until today, given everything that happened yesterday. But Cady had to have remembered. Because she promised she’d come. And Cady isn’t the type to break promises.

 

After they’re back at Janis’s and settled in the basement, Damian texts Cady asking if she’s okay and what happened. Janis was too tired to go upstairs and take everything off so she merely kicks her heels to the floor and snuggles into her blanket.

 

“She says she’s…on her way,” Damian announces a minute later, and Janis looks up at his perplexed tone.

 

“Huh?” she says, confused. He tilts his phone towards her as another text from Cady appears, saying she’s fine and she’ll explain when she gets there.

 

“Explain _what_?” Janis murmurs, befuddled. If she’s coming to see them, obviously there was no emergency that kept her away. Nothing that could have prevented her from sending a text. If she’s okay, there’s no reason for her to not have come to the art show. Janis seethes with frustration.

 

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. Janis is braced for a fight.

 

* * *

 

Regina George is a pathological liar. She’s an abusive control freak with no regard for others’ feelings. She throws week-long tantrums if she doesn’t get her way. She does not like the color purple, thinking it competes too much with pink. She always worms her way out of absolutely everything and has never gotten in trouble. She will degrade, belittle, insult, and crush your heart while making you crave her approval all in the same breath. She sticks to every facet of your body, pink and viscid and difficult to get off until you give up trying. If bubblegum were a person, it’d be Regina George.

 

Janis has been trying to scrub every last bit of Regina from her body and cleanse her from her mind since March. But Regina still comes back to cling to Janis’s skin, to slip into her mind while she’s asleep, turning her dreams into nightmares, resurrecting their final day together. If Janis had her way, she’d never think about it again. She doesn’t like giving Regina the satisfaction of hurting her, even in sleep, even if the real Regina has no clue. But that isn’t the point—the point is, her claws and fangs are still nestled deep in Janis’s body. Janis has resigned to the fact they’ll always hang off her like an invisible but horrid deformity.

 

Regina doesn’t think the rules apply to her. Maybe they don’t. Janis has witnessed firsthand as Regina got away with some cruel shit, then turned around and made Janis’s dignity waver when she’d poke fun at her for not wanting to do bad things.

 

Quite frankly, Regina snatched Janis’s dignity long before that night in March. There was none left for her to steal then, just the last of Janis’s sanity, perhaps. Janis always ran in circles for Regina. She’s chasing her tail even now coming up with reasons to justify what they did. Because if it’s what Cady implied it was, Janis doesn’t know what she’ll do. Yes, she’s wondered it. She thinks about it all the time as of late because Regina just can’t ever leave her alone. It’s like the obvious is right there in front of her—but Janis is too scared, too petrified to see it. She doesn’t want to see it. She doesn’t want to acknowledge it. She doesn’t want it to be real.

 

Every other depraved thing Regina did to her can be real, as long as this isn’t. Because it’d mean she’s the weakest person who ever walked the planet. She couldn’t find a single ounce of courage to say no, so she gave in. And now she’s dirty, tainted. Bubblegum kisses still burning on her skin like cigarette butts, something nasty disguised as something sweet. Because that’s how Regina seemed at first, a pink rose so beautiful Janis didn’t see the thorns.

 

Even when Regina was taking their clothes off, Janis ignored them, and Regina’s rapidly wilting petals.

 

Cady Heron is a flower of her own, a white, innocent rose that blooms only when it’s convenient, when she wants something. And Janis is so distracted by her beauty she’s completely missing the shady behavior and the falsehoods, hidden when the petals close.

 

Whether or not Janis wants Regina to face consequences is beside the point. Janis told Cady, practically begged her, not to mess with Regina’s life. She warned her of the possible fallout; she warned her people would get hurt. That Janis would get hurt. But apparently even that wasn’t enough for Cady to exert some form of impulse control. It wasn’t enough— _Janis_ wasn’t enough, not her wellbeing, not her safety, not her feelings—to keep Cady from diving into something she shouldn’t mess with. Because Janis, generally, is simply just not good enough for anybody to do their best for.

 

She already knew she didn’t matter. Her best friend’s betrayal only cements that. Because if she’s not good enough for Cady, she’ll never be for anyone.

 

* * *

 

Janis doesn’t remember anything after Cady left. She honestly feels like she blacked out, like her brain turned off and let her body destroy itself. She doesn’t know what day it is when she wakes up; she doesn’t know how she got to her bed or who dressed her in her pajamas or who took her makeup off.

 

Disoriented but feeling strangely alert and awake, she gets out of bed, following the scent of coffee and bagels down the stairs. She hears voices, and her chest tightens as she briefly recognizes her mother’s—but then there’s a laugh. Her mom rarely laughed.

 

Janis ambles down the hall, and Abby jumps when she sees her. “Oh, Janis!” she exclaims, and Mr. Sarkisian quickly turns around. “Hi, honey, how are you feeling?” Abby sets her mug down and goes to Janis, cupping her forehead to see if she has a fever. “You’re still warm. You okay?”

 

Janis pulls away instinctively, looking to her father. “What day is it?” she croaks.

 

“Sunday,” he answers calmly, but his face is gripped with worry. “It’s noon.”

 

“Oh.” Janis is surprised, she expected him to say Tuesday at four PM. “Okay. Where’s Damian?”

 

“On the couch downstairs,” Abby tells her. “He—he didn’t want to leave you. I can go get him.”

 

“No, no, let him sleep.” Janis sinks into a chair at the kitchen table, her legs suddenly wobbly. She looks out the window at their small backyard, where the yellowed grass is lightly dusted with snow, the windowpanes covered in frost. When she was younger, she would play outside and come up to the window to kiss her mother through the glass and she’d shriek with joy when her lips prickled from the ice. Her mom would laugh then.

 

“Dad,” she says, several minutes later when they’ve casually joined her at the table, not forcing her to eat anything, just keeping her company. “Can we go see Mom?” She is asking without really understanding what it is she’s saying, but she doesn’t necessarily regret it once it’s out there.

 

Her father looks at her for a moment til he grasps what she means. “Oh. Yeah. Today?”

 

Still looking out the window, Janis nods. “Later. After Damian goes home.”

 

“Okay,” her father says softly, as Abby gives him a quizzical look. “Yeah, kid, we can do that.”

 

* * *

 

The last time Janis visited her mother’s grave, she was attending her funeral. She remembers where it is, though, oddly enough. She remembers walking up this path, past the tree, down the second to last row to the only flat headstone in the ground.

 

**ELEANOR DAVIS SARKISIAN**

**May 31, 1975 – Nov. 5, 2011**

**Beloved wife, mother, sister, and friend.**

 

She sinks onto the grass directly above the plot where her mother’s coffin was lowered. Her father and Abby are still in the car, wanting to give her privacy. Janis studies the weathered slab pensively, not necessarily trying to think of words to say, but things to feel. Meeting Regina so soon after losing her mother meant she never really felt what she should’ve at the time, at least not as intensely as expected for a traumatized ten-year-old. The chance to grieve is yet another thing Regina took from her.

 

“Hey, Ma,” Janis murmurs, reaching out to trace the M in _mother_. “Sorry I haven’t…been here in a while. A lot’s happened. I don’t know where to start. I guess I don’t really have to, because you can’t…hear me anyway. But. Yeah. Life kinda sucks, that’s all you need to know.”

 

Her mom would understand. Her mom thought life sucked, too. Clearly.

 

“My best friend screwed me over,” Janis continues, eyes burning with tears. “And then she actually screwed me. I don’t think I wanted it. It’s weird, because I didn’t say no. I should have. But I didn’t. So I don’t know what that means. But then my other best friend screwed me over, just yesterday. Kind of. I mean, she’s trying to do a good thing for people. But it fell back on me like I told her it would. Because she doesn’t think before she does things, she just…does whatever she wants. I know it’s because she has a weird relationship with her mom and she feels trapped when someone tells her no, but…I don’t know. I don’t know, Mama.”

 

She angrily swipes at her eyes. “She’s just like Regina,” she mumbles, chest aching. “Only she has good intentions. But she doesn’t seem good to me right now. Because I told her not to do it. And she swore she wouldn’t. I’d be used to the broken promises if it was Regina, but it’s Caddy, and Caddy doesn’t…I didn’t think she was capable of it at all. But that’s me stupidly giving her the benefit of the doubt. She still did it.”

 

It’s not that Janis doesn’t understand _why_. Sure, Cady, go ahead and interview people, get their “testimonies” on tape. Do your best. Do your worst. You’ll be let down when nobody does anything about it, though. So Janis gets the motivation, she really does, but it’s deeper than Cady just wanting to help people. It’s her mother’s abuse, her way of keeping Cady locked inside herself for so long Cady didn’t know what to do with her newfound freedom. So she spiraled and found another excuse to take down Regina, using Karen Smith as her spy, making Aaron Samuels tell people Gretchen told him Regina was cheating. Karen’s too dumb for that to have been her idea. So this is Cady, from beginning to end. Regina did whatever she had to in order to get what she wanted. Cady is no different.

 

“Why’d you leave?” Janis hears herself ask, her voice childlike and wounded. “I don’t think you planned on me finding you, but I did. And I still don’t…really get why you had to leave. I’d say you could’ve asked for help but I don’t do that, either. So it’s not my place to say. But you still didn’t have to kill yourself, Mama. You didn’t have to do it that way. You didn’t have to die at all. Someone would’ve been willing to help.”

 

Janis looks down at her hands, reddened from the cold. She exhales, closing her eyes. “I don’t know, Mama. I wish you were here. But then again, if you couldn’t handle your problems, you probably couldn’t help me with mine. But that isn’t your fault. You were sick. Maybe I’m a little sick, too. And I don’t know what to do about that. I wish I could go to sleep and wake up when things are okay again. Sometimes I wonder if that’s all you were trying to do.”

 

Janis swallows hard, her shoulders slumping. “I miss you, Mama. I hope wherever you are, you miss me, too. I’ll…come see you again on Christmas, I guess. If Dad wants. I don’t think he’s ready to see you again, but that’s okay. So. Yeah. I’m gonna go. Um. I love you.”

 

She feels like she’s leaving an extremely long voicemail and doesn’t know how to end it. She gets to her feet, wondering if there’s anything else she should say, then figures she’s said what she needs to get off her chest. She turns and treks back to the car, feeling heavier than before, though she expected the load to weigh more.

 

* * *

 

Cady doesn’t call or text and Janis doesn’t expect her to. She’s relieved, honestly, that she won’t have to avoid her at school. Janis hopes her choice to not reach out first is more hurtful than swerving her in school, because ignoring your friends who are a text away is obviously worse.

 

Janis still doesn’t remember her breakdown the other night, and is glad her father hasn’t tried to bring it up. He gives her space even though he’s concerned, and thankfully all Abby tries to do is stay out of Janis’s way and let their house be theirs for a bit.

 

Janis alternates between sleeping and not sleeping, and on nights when she’s wide awake she scrolls through Tumblr or sends memes to Damian until he responds at four in the morning to tell her he regrets forgetting to put his phone on silent. One night she asks if he’s spoken to Cady, and he says he hasn’t.

 

The twenty-third rolls around, and Janis tags along with Abby when she invites her to go last-minute shopping. Janis has been keeping herself occupied by working on a gift for her dad, and now that it’s finished she needs to put it in a frame so she can wrap it. Abby is delighted when Janis tells her and says she can’t wait to see the painting. It’s nice to receive compliments from people and know they’re genuine. Abby is like Cady, she wears her heart on her sleeve. Except with Abby, what you see is what you get—with Cady, what you see is what she wants you to see.

 

Janis is grateful Abby doesn’t pry into her relationship with her mother. She doesn’t doubt Abby knows what happened but is glad her feelings on it are respected. Abby has no hidden agenda. She doesn’t do things under the radar then expect to be praised for it. She’s just kind, considerate Abby.

 

“I hope it’s okay that I’m around,” Abby says as they’re driving home, taking Janis by surprise.

 

“Huh? Yeah. Of course it is.” Janis lifts a shoulder. There’s too much going on in her head to be upset over that anymore. Routine is still important, but it’s not everything. It stuns Janis to realize she’s fine with accommodating Abby if necessary, for her dad’s sake.

 

Abby bites her lip, tapping the steering wheel. “I just. Want you to know that I—that I respect you, and so does your dad. I know you’ve…been through hell. And you can tell me if I need to do something to make this easier for you. And if you wanted to talk about anything, I don’t have to give advice. Just listen.”

 

The thought of telling Abby her darkest secrets makes Janis nauseous, but she’s touched by the gesture nonetheless. “Thanks,” she murmurs, offering a shy smile. “I might take you up on that sometime. And, um…I’m happy for you and my dad. Really.”

 

Abby makes a pleased noise, reaching over to squeeze Janis’s elbow. “Thank you, honey. I’m very lucky. He’s gonna love your painting. Whatever it is.”

 

Janis grins, maybe a bit smug. She’s confident they’ll both like it. “Yeah, I hope so.”

 

Damian and his mother join them for Christmas Eve dinner the following evening, and Damian and Janis end up in the basement as usual. They watch _Home Alone_ , Janis’s favorite holiday movie, and while she’s mad at Cady she can’t help but wish she was here spending Christmas with them, especially when they exchange presents. Damian gifts Janis a brand new set of watercolors and she peppers his face with kisses until he squirms and accuses her of acting like his grandmother. Janis’s present for him is a signed _Book of Mormon_ playbill she bought on eBay, and he freaks out for a solid five minutes, then hugs her and cries.

 

Janis can’t sleep later that night, but it’s not out of anticipation. She thinks about last Christmas, amazed by how much can change in a year. Last winter, she was blonde, a pretty pale pink extension of Regina, and celebrating Regina’s sweet sixteen. Her birthday is on the twenty-first, and Janis is gripped with alarm over the fact she forgot. For the first time in seven years, she forgot Regina’s birthday. She laughs to herself, amazed.

 

And then she buries her face in her pillow, unexpectedly overwhelmed by sobs.

 

* * *

 

Janis is still awake by five in the morning, and she opens her closet quietly, taking a deep breath before pushing through the rack to find what she’s looking for.

 

She heads downstairs, where the slivers of dawn are beginning to brighten the house. She retrieves a pair of scissors from the junk drawer and goes to sit on the sofa after turning on the lights on the tree for comfort. She looks down at the top and skirt in her lap, remembering how it felt when Regina pulled them off.

 

Janis shudders, exhaling as she takes the scissors to the front of the shirt, cutting it down the middle like she’s been cutting wrapping paper. She snips off the sleeves then cuts them in half, and chops the rest of the shirt into pieces. She’s crying again by the time she gets to the skirt, tears trickling down her cheeks. Her stomach clenches with the effort of keeping in her sobs as she tears the scissors through the fabric of the pleated skirt.

 

When the outfit is shredded, Janis opens the flue and gets a fire started, kneeling in front of the fireplace as she waits for the flames to catch on. She lets herself cry, unable to stop if she tried. She begins taking pieces of the shirt and places them in the fire, watching the flames char them black.

 

The skirt is next, and Janis throws what’s left of it into the fire, barely able to see through the tears blurring her vision. She pulls her knees to her chest and watches the last reminder of Regina burn, burn, burn away, burn like Regina burned Janis.

 

The sun gradually comes up, glittering on the snow outside, sending warm yellow rays into the small living room. It glitters in the ornaments on the tree, makes the wrapping paper shine. The fire crackles a foot away, but Janis is chilled. She stops crying eventually, and rests her chin on her knees, blinking tears from her eyelashes.

 

Something happened to her. She can’t explain it, can’t put it into words, can’t fully understand it.

 

But it’s a new day, and it’s Christmas. She feels a little lighter. Regina can’t take today. Janis won’t let her.


	26. pt 5: ch 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cannot believe this is almost over. i... sad.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  sexual assault/rape mention

 

 

#  **PART FIVE: JANUARY**

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### twenty-six

 

 

 

It’s an hour until New Year’s, and Cady doesn’t want to leave her room.

 

She’s been listening to the tapes and checking her notes for over an hour, mostly out of boredom. She isn’t necessarily less enthusiastic about it than before, but now there is a gut-wrenching sensation of guilt in her chest. She’s still going to continue talking to people, because she can’t turn back now, and no matter what Janis thinks, there’s a _chance_ this could do some good. Cady still firmly believes she’s doing the right thing. It’s unorthodox and risky, but it’s not _bad_.

 

Her fight with Janis has been ringing in her head for two weeks. Her usual holiday spirit is considerably dampened and she hasn’t bothered to lie when her parents ask if it’s because of Janis. They obviously don’t know anything, but Cady told them she and Janis got in a fight after Cady missed her art show, but they’ll patch things up soon. She doesn’t have much hope for a happy reunion, though. They’ve fought, but this time feels different.

 

Cady’s mother taps on her open door to alert her of her presence, and Cady pulls her earbuds out to acknowledge her. “Yeah?”

 

“Hi,” Mrs. Heron says softly. “Can we talk? Just talk, for a minute?”

 

_Sure, if you’re actually going to listen to what I say._ “Sure. Sit wherever you want,” Cady offers, and her mother takes the desk chair. Cady closes out the voice memos app and shuts her notebook. Her mom notices, but thankfully doesn’t say anything.

 

There’s a pause, then Mrs. Heron says, “Okay. It’s almost New Year’s. I don’t want to end 2018 with us still being mad.”

 

Cady rolls her eyes. “Mom, we could’ve begun and finished this discussion the first time I brought it up, but you’re so goddamn full of it you don’t want to hear what I have to say. So unless you’re going to shut up and accept constructive criticism this time, I’ll happily go into the new year holding a grudge.”

 

Mrs. Heron doesn’t even bother telling Cady off for taking that tone with her. “I _do_ accept criticism, just about things that actually need to be criticized. And half the time you storm out of the room before I can edge a word in, so are you gonna do that this time?”

 

They glare at each other for a long moment, then Mrs. Heron rubs her temples. “Fine. I’ll listen if you stay. Capiche?”

 

“Yeah.” Cady crawls to the edge of her bed and sits. “Okay. So. I get why you are the way that you are because of your mom and how you were raised. But like I have been saying, that’s not an excuse to turn around and treat me unfairly, too. You might not know you’re like this with me, or maybe you do, I don’t know, but I’m telling you it isn’t a good thing and it’s hurting me. And when I explain _why_ it hurts me and _why_ it’s damaging for you to act like this, you’re supposed to listen and nod and say sorry and swear to me you’ll do better. That’s what you’ve taught me to do when I mess up. So why isn’t that courtesy extended to me? Do the rules not apply to you? Why do you get to get away with how you’ve treated me all these years, my entire _life_ , but I don’t get to call you out on your bullshit?”

 

“Give me an example of something I’ve done,” Mrs. Heron requests curtly.

 

Cady blows air from her cheeks. “Using _your_ separation anxiety as an excuse to homeschool me for ten years, rather than get counseling or something so I could just learn and be a kid in a public environment. Being really weird whenever I had friends over, never letting me go to other people’s houses, generally being way too overprotective. I have to let you grade my homework before I turn it in, because your approval matters more than my qualified teachers’. You literally had a meltdown when I said I wanted to go to public school and made me feel terrible for considering it. You put so much pressure on me to be the best and yet it still never seems good enough for you. And Mom, I’m not saying you’re a bad parent, those are just bad things you’ve done. I’m not your puppet or your doll or your property. I have feelings. I exist outside of you. I just want you to open your eyes and see that. For once, _please_ , look at what you’ve done to me.”

 

Cady is losing steam. She’s tired of this, of trying to make her mother see her side. And she doesn’t have a plan B—she doesn’t have any idea what she’ll do if tonight isn’t the turning point for their relationship, if her feelings are disregarded again.

 

Mrs. Heron inhales deeply after a moment of thought, then exhales like she’s very tired. Cady doesn’t feel bad for her. “Okay. You’re right. I hear you. Those are all…things I shouldn’t have done, or shouldn’t still do. And I… Yeah, you’re right. I’m like this because of my mom, but…that doesn’t make it okay.”

 

Cady breathes out again. Just breathes out and closes her eyes. “Exactly. Thank you,” she whispers.

 

Mrs. Heron bites her thumbnail, appearing small and childlike in her shame. “I don’t know what else to say, Cady.”

 

“I didn’t expect you to,” Cady murmurs, and her mom’s eyes flick to her face. “Just…please think on it. Think about it, think about everything I’ve ever told you in the last few months. And I know you let me do things now, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still dealing with the effects of what you’ve done before. So. Yeah. I’m my own person, and that probably is hard to hear as a parent, I guess, but it’s true. And you need to figure out how to be separate from me and not…project so much onto me. I can’t be you. I can’t, y’know, give you back those years you didn’t have. I’m just me, Mom. Let me be me.”

 

Her mother nods, and they can’t look at each other. Mrs. Heron stands and holds her arms open, and Cady leans up on her knees to hug her. She loves her mother, that is not a question that needs to be asked or a seed of doubt that needs to be planted. But that doesn’t mean Cady has to sit and take what she puts her through.

 

Mrs. Heron takes Cady’s face between her hands and kisses her forehead. “I love you, baby. And I’m sorry.”

 

That remains to be seen, but Cady nods, taking what she can get for now. It’s a start, and it’s a decent one.

 

Later, as they’re watching the ball drop on TV, Cady lets her mother grasp her hand as they enter a new year.

 

* * *

 

School starts two days later on the second, and Cady feels like throwing up at the thought of seeing Janis in person for the first time in three and a half weeks. They haven’t texted or communicated at all; Cady hasn’t even been in touch with Damian. But they’re a package deal, so obviously he’s on Janis’s side.

 

She nervously takes her seat in homeroom, sort of glad her friends aren’t already here. But they show up a few minutes after her, and she and Janis make eye contact from the doorway to Cady’s desk. It feels like they stare forever, but it’s really only a second, and then Janis is walking over to slide into her seat in front of Cady. Cady yearns to tap her on the shoulder and beg her to talk to her. But Cady doesn’t beg.

 

Taylor squeals and gives Cady a hug when they reunite in chemistry, and they talk about their break for a while. When Cady falls quiet and contemplative, Taylor does, too, surprisingly. Then she softly asks if Cady’s okay, and Cady’s traitorous eyes fill with tears and she bites her tongue.

 

“Fine,” she mutters, but her chest is constricting and she loses focus on what she’s working on. She pushes her goggles up to hide her face in her hands and Taylor is quick to hug her, cheek on her shoulder, offering silent support. The way Cady did the day they met.

 

Cady actually hasn’t cried much lately, not over her fight with Janis, not over her mother. She hates crying, it makes her feel babyish, weak, and vulnerable. But she cries, a little bit, just because she can’t help it and can’t keep it inside her any longer.

 

Taylor takes her to the bathroom when class is over and helps dry her eyes. Taylor is so endlessly empathetic towards the people around her, it astounds Cady. After what she went through—whatever it was, she’s never shared specifics and Cady isn’t going to ask—she could’ve turned cold and bitter. But her heart is still warm, and she’s soft with Cady, and Cady catches herself wondering if she likes girls. Because her shot with Janis has been out the window for a while now.

 

“Curl up with some cocoa when you get home,” Taylor advises her after the final bell, shrugging on her coat. “That always makes me feel better. Oh, and watch funny animal videos, those are the best. You’ll be laughing so much you’ll forget why you’re even sad. Works every time.”

 

Cady hugs her tightly. “Thank you, Taylor. I’ll do that,” she promises.

 

“You have my number, right? Text me if you just need someone to talk to,” Taylor adds kindly.

 

Cady nods, and Taylor swoops in to kiss her cheek before practically skipping away. Cady’s cheek tingles from the warm press of her lips, but shakes her head to clear it. It isn’t like that for them, and Cady doesn’t want it to be. She can’t give up on Janis just yet.

 

Cady shuts her locker door, startled when she sees Janis has walked up. “Gah! Oh. Hey,” she squeaks, heart in her throat. Janis’s face is awkward and tentative, but she’s there, half a foot from Cady, and looking at her with big, anxious eyes.

 

“Hi,” she whispers, and despite the circumstances, despite absolutely everything, Cady is weak in the knees when their eyes meet.

 

Is that what love is? Still feeling wobbly and lightheaded and giddy when you see that person, no matter what?

 

“Can I walk home with you?” Janis asks timidly, already bracing herself for rejection.

 

“Of course,” Cady says instantly, and the side of Janis’s mouth lifts. Their fingertips brush when they fall into step beside each other, and Cady’s heart races. They’re silent as they walk out of the building and down the sets of steps to the street. Cady honestly feels like she might faint.

 

Once they’re across the street, Janis sighs and says, “So, um. How was your Christmas?”

 

“It was good,” Cady replies. “I got tons of videos of Wilson playing in the wrapping paper, I can send them to you and Damian later.”

 

“Yeah, sure. I miss Wilson.” Janis pouts for a second, then continues when Cady prompts her to talk about her holiday. “Oh, it was fine. Abby spent it with us, which is cool. She decorated the house all pretty. My dad and I usually only put up the tree, but Abby brought decorations from her place and made it look catalogue-worthy. It was a nice Christmas. I, uh, painted my dad and Abby and gave it to him in a frame. He cried.”

 

Cady laughs, but isn’t surprised. “That’s so cute. You’re, uh, you’re really okay with them dating now? I know you were kind of put off before.”

 

Janis shrugs. “I’m used to her now and I’ve gotten to know her better. There’s nothing about her I don’t like. She makes my dad really happy. He just seems more content. I want that too much for him to be upset he has a girlfriend. If she’s the one who can make him happy like that, then it’s whatever.”

 

“Your feelings still matter, though,” Cady reminds her gently.

 

Janis looks at her, raising an eyebrow at the ironic boldness of Cady’s statement, and Cady blushes. “I just mean…you know, if you felt negatively about it, you’d be allowed to tell him that,” she clarifies. “But I’m glad things are working out for you.”

 

“Thanks. Me, too.” Janis’s tone becomes clipped, and they walk in silence for a bit. The inevitable is coming. Cady thought she was prepared, but she isn’t. She is suddenly gripped with the fear that they might not resolve this at all, that Janis is going to say her piece then walk away for good.

 

They stop at a stop sign even though there’s no traffic. It’s the same spot they were in the day Janis told Cady she’s gay and what Regina had been saying about her. Cady is jarred by the memory, and telling by Janis’s expression, she’s remembering that, too.

 

“I’m sorry,” they say simultaneously, and Cady is taken by surprise. Janis doesn’t really have anything to be sorry for. Cady’s the one who broke her promise. No matter how you want to look at it, Cady’s more at fault here. She might be trying to do a good thing, but she’s still meddling in Regina’s life, and while she didn’t plan on Gretchen being a petty vengeful brat on her own, Janis still got hurt because of the things Cady set in motion. It kills Cady, knowing she played a part in the humiliation Janis faced, all over again, forced to relive the most traumatizing days of her life after Regina outed her to the entire freaking school and spread lies about her.

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Cady says instantly, shaking her head. “I take full responsibility for everything. _Everything_. From Aaron finding out Regina cheated on him, to the texts that Gretchen leaked, to what she told people about you and Regina. That was because of me, because I thought it’d be a good idea to ruin their friendship in order to boost my plan along. I wasn’t thinking anything would happen to you. I didn’t consider every possibility like I should’ve. I was so blinded by the idea that worming Regina’s secrets out of her through Karen would work, I didn’t think hurting Gretchen would get you hurt.”

 

She pauses to gather the rest of her apology, and Janis waits patiently. Cady stuffs her mittens in her pockets so Janis won’t see her hands are shaking. “And, um. It _was_ a pretty self-righteous thing to do, I guess,” she continues. “You were right. About all of it. About…doing it because it’s kinda shady, and I’ve never rebelled against being told no before. And, yeah, it does make me feel good, but only because I’m giving people an opportunity to share their stories after being silenced for so long. So—I’m not sorry for collecting the tapes. I don’t feel bad about that. But everything else, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it so far. I just wanted Regina to get a taste of how she treats people. How it feels to be screwed over and embarrassed. But it shouldn’t have been at your added expense, Janis.”

 

Janis seems touched by the sincere apology, but there’s still hesitation in her eyes, like she’s unsure if she can fully trust Cady again. She takes a deep breath and exhales like she’s gearing up to say something heavy. “Thank you,” she sighs. “I…appreciate the honesty. And I’m sorry I called you selfish. I get it now, about the tapes. Even if I’m not personally confident they’ll amount to anything, you’re still letting people talk about the horrible things Regina has done to them. And that’s…that must be pretty freeing, if they haven’t been able to before.” She tears up all of a sudden and looks down, her eyelashes like feathers above her pale cheeks. Cady feels a surge of longing, to put a hand on Janis’s face, to prove her skin contradicts the chill she exudes.

 

Janis evidently has nothing left to say, but Cady is gripped with the urge to be truthful about one more thing. “Um. Janis,” Janis looks up, recovered now, “there’s something else I should…tell you,” Cady admits, shuffling her feet. “Um. About you and Regina. Me and Karen…we found out before everyone else did. Gretchen told us, a week after I told Aaron to tell people Gretchen told him about Regina cheating on him. But, um—she was upset and crying and I went to see what was going on, and she was ranting, and it came up. She said Regina told her to help spread the rumor about you groping her or whatever, to demonize you and so no one would find out you…had sex. Because that’d make Regina look bad. But anyway, I found out first, but I never told you because it… I don’t know. I just couldn’t ask you about it. I’m sorry.”

 

Janis seems stunned at this news, but luckily not livid. Then she looks embarrassed, which is worse than anger. “Oh,” she says after a minute of processing that. “Okay. I’m sorry you had to find out like that, I wish I…I wish I could’ve been the one to confide in you about it.”

 

“I do, too,” Cady insists. “We didn’t coerce her into telling us that at all. She was just venting and happened to bring it up.”

 

Janis nods, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. To Janis, Cady found out about it when everyone else did, so it must be weird to know Cady knew before then. She didn’t keep it from Janis for malicious reasons; she truly didn’t know how to handle discovering that information, so she kept it to herself.

 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she murmurs. “If it’s…hard for you.”

 

Janis sniffs from the cold, massaging her knuckles to keep them warm. “No, we can. I should probably…tell someone. In my own words. You’ve probably been going crazy, unsure who or what to believe.” She grins a little, affectionately, and Cady’s stomach flutters.

 

“Okay,” she whispers, nodding, but is more terrified than she was before.

 

* * *

 

They lay on Cady’s bed for a while, not talking. Janis is thinking hard about how she wants to tell the story, and Cady is mentally preparing herself to hear what she’s scared to hear. But she has to be strong for Janis no matter what—this isn’t about her. Whatever Janis says, whatever the truth really is, she’s going to need Cady’s support. She’s going to need her to not judge, to not panic, to not lament and swear vengeance.

 

Eventually Janis exhales and starts off with, “Okay. So. You know this already, but I’ll start from the beginning. I came out to her, she lied about her sexuality by coming out to _me_ , and then she kissed me. As soon as she started kissing me, my body just sort of…shut down. My brain, even. I was so overwhelmed I didn’t know what to do. It just, y’know, happened out of nowhere. And even though I believed it was what I wanted…I doubted it once it was happening. But I didn’t know how to tell her no, or to say that I wasn’t ready. So then I was on her bed and she was on top of me, kissing me… She tried touching me under my shirt, but I told her I wasn’t sure if I wanted it. She got mad and said it was just sex, and of course I wanted it. But I wasn’t responding, wasn’t kissing her back, I just…laid there and let it happen.”

 

That hangs between them for a tense moment. Cady feels downright sick.

 

“And so she kept going, and she took my skirt off, then my shirt, and the rest. And she took her clothes off, too. And. Yeah.” Janis cuts herself off abruptly, clumsily, like she is afraid she’s traumatized Cady by association. “Aaand then we had sex,” she concludes ineptly.

 

“Janis,” Cady says, eyes closed, after she thinks about it. “That wasn’t sex. I think you know that that wasn’t real sex.”

 

A very long silence, then a quiet, almost shameful, “Yeah.”

 

Cady rolls onto her side to face her friend. “Do you know what rape by deception is?”

 

Janis looks startled. “Don’t say that word,” she retorts, alarmed, then looks confused. “And no, I don’t.”

 

“It’s when a person is coerced into a sexual encounter by emotional manipulation or deceit, like a lie, rather than physical force,” Cady explains. “If Regina lied to you about her sexuality when she’s straight, to get you to sleep with her, then she—”

 

“Shut up,” Janis snaps, squeezing her eyes shut. “Gahhh. Don’t say it, Caddy, please don’t.”

 

“Janis.” Cady’s voice wavers and she grasps Janis’s wrist gently. “Aside from how you were scared and she kept going anyway, the fact she lied about her sexuality is a huge fucking red flag. She lured you in under false pretenses.” She swallows hard. “But you never said yes. You weren’t in a position to consent.”

 

“But I didn’t fight her off, either,” Janis disputes, her voice thick. “I just. Let it happen. And she didn’t tie me up or whatever.”

 

“She didn’t have to,” Cady whispers. “Because you were already incapacitated—”

 

“I’m a stupid dyke who had a crush, and when she wanted to have sex with me, I was too attracted to her to say no—”

 

“Janis! You are not stupid, and it doesn’t matter how attracted to her you were, or if your crush was real or not. You didn’t say no because you _couldn’t_ say no, because she put you in a position where you were too afraid to make her stop. She knew you wouldn’t, she was testing you.”

 

Janis moans and covers her face with her hands. “Girls don’t rape girls, Caddy.”

 

“Yes they do,” Cady fires back. “It’s rare, but it happens. And it—Regina, she—it happened to you.”

 

Janis is quiet for a bit, jostling the bed slightly as she shakes her leg anxiously. Then she emerges from her hands, looking stricken with terror. “But I let it happen,” she says again in an unconvincing whisper. “I let her fuck me, and I fucked her, too.”

 

“Because she made you,” Cady murmurs, stroking a tear from Janis’s cheek with her thumb.

 

“Because I’m weak,” Janis sobs, bursting into tears. “I’m weak, Caddy. Sh-she—she raped me because I’m fucking weak.”

 

“No,” Cady argues, shaking her head, crying too. “You aren’t weak. Look at me, Janis. It’s like—it’s kinda like me and my mom, y’know? I didn’t ask her to be the way she is or turn out this way because of her, just like—just like you didn’t ask Regina to have sex with you. But that doesn’t make us weak, okay? And we’re not just victims, we’re—we’re survivors.” Her trembling voice is now gripped with conviction. “We aren’t weak, we’ve just been made to feel like we are. But—but _you_ are _not_ weak. You’re the strongest person I know. Okay? And what happened to you doesn’t make you weak. _She’s_ weak, if she had to resort to doing that to feel powerful. Okay?”

 

Janis nods and pulls Cady closer into a crushing hug, weeping openly into her shoulder.

 

Cady cries with her, stroking her hair, because as a friend it’s all she can do.


	27. pt 5: ch 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is another really important chapter for janis. i hope it speaks to y’all in some way.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  abuse mention   
>  sexual assault/rape mention

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### twenty-seven

 

 

 

“Hey, you’re home late. You have fun with Regina?”

 

“Yeah.” Janis shut and locked the front door, shoes in hand. She saw the glow of Mrs. George’s headlights as the Mercedes drove away.

 

Janis was startled by her father’s sudden presence in the hallway. He gave her a quizzical look, glancing at her up and down. She wanted to hunch her shoulders and duck behind her hair. But bad posture was frowned upon and her hair wasn’t meant to hide her glammed-up face.

 

“You alright, pumpkin?” her father asked, sensing something was off. Honestly, she didn’t blame him. Everything felt off to her, too. Like the world had tilted on its axis. Like her equilibrium was out of whack. Her head was rapidly filling up with fog.

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Janis replied, a tad belatedly, then gestured to the staircase. “I’m gonna shower.”

 

“Alright,” he said, watching her ascend the steps. “Be careful, sweetheart. Don’t slip.”

 

She grinned at him fondly. “I won’t, Daddy. I’ll come say goodnight before I go to bed,” she promised, then disappeared up to her room.

 

She stood in the shower for a long time, staring at the tiled wall until the hot jets of water numbed her skin. She couldn’t feel her face or her hands or her legs. But somehow she was still standing, unwilling to be knocked to the ground, some resilient part of her keeping her upright.

 

Pajama clad, she later hung up her outfit at the very end of the rack, hiding it behind the other dresses, skirts, tops, and pants she’d been stocking up on for years. She was never aware how much she hated the color pink until that very moment, a rush of loathing for the color overwhelming her til it burned in her eyes. Then she closed the door, hiding her sickly clothes from view, and went to tell her father goodnight.

 

She came back to a text from Regina, saying she missed her already and loved her. Janis knew she was supposed to be over the moon with joy that her crush not only had a thing for her in return, but they acted on their feelings in the most intimate way imaginable. At least, Janis thought she should be happy.

 

But she wasn’t, and she crawled into bed without responding to Regina’s text. She laid awake despite how tired she was, staring at the ceiling for a long time. She wasn’t sure why she felt so empty now when Regina made her feel so full. She touched her lips, and they felt sore.

 

She was sore everywhere, actually. But it didn’t feel worth it. Only months later did Janis finally understand why.

 

* * *

 

There’s clarity now, having told Cady and getting her perspective on it. Maybe that’s all Janis was waiting for—someone else to see it, to confirm it was true. Not because it is a good thing or Janis wants it to be true, but if Cady can see how horrible it is, then maybe Janis isn’t crazy for thinking it happened.

 

Regina wasn’t just testing her loyalty, but her sanity, wanting to throw everything off-balance after she kicked Janis to the curb. She wanted Janis to doubt the validity of the experience, to question whether or not it was consensual without having explicitly used force. Regina was gentle for a reason, while also using Janis’s fear against her. She knew Janis would exhaust herself thinking about it, her rationality running dry.

 

But if Cady has been thinking the same thing, Janis isn’t so crazy after all.

 

Cady holds her as she cries, face in her neck. Cady’s fingers comb through Janis’s hair, other arm around her waist, and despite how wrought with pain she is, Janis hasn’t felt this safe in a while. Like her body is whole for once, and Cady’s the glue keeping her together until she can fix herself.

 

Cady’s apology earlier was heartfelt and straightforward. Janis didn’t expect anything less when she wandered up to her locker, hoping they could just talk. Burning her skirt and top made her realize she needs Cady, because Cady hates Regina almost as much. If Cady had been there, she probably would’ve held Janis when she cried. Cady is trying to do some good, no matter how Janis feels about it, and she appreciates Cady owning up to her unassuming part in Gretchen’s petty revenge tricks. As for her going behind Janis’s back to mess with Regina, Janis can find it in her heart to forgive her for that, too.

 

She gets it. Everyone has a deeper motive than the one they think is the priority, an inner reason for doing the things they do. Because they’ve been hurt, because they just want to feel free in their choices, because they want to be better and stronger than the negativity that surrounds their life.

 

Even when Janis loses the energy to keep crying, she lets Cady hold her. She likes the closeness of their bodies, the warmth and smell of Cady, their legs overlapping. She innocently wonders if this is what it’s like to have a girlfriend, and if this is what it’d be like to be Cady’s. If they’d snuggle a lot, if they’d cry on each other a lot, if they’d be the other’s anchor to their sanity, or the boat that brings them back to shore.

 

If this is what it’d be like, Janis wants to try it. But that’s a discussion for a later time. Now, she wants to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Damian is tentative when Janis and Cady show up at school together the next day. “Did you guys make up?”

 

Janis grins wryly. “Yeah, Damian, we made up. Cady said sorry.”

 

“Oh, thank God.” And he pulls them both to him in a crushing double hug. “I missed my bitches.”

 

“And we missed you,” Cady replies as Damian takes both their hands.

 

Cady is off conducting not-so-secret business during break, giving Janis and Damian time to talk. “So?” he says, eyebrows raised. “Did she apologize for crushing your heart by betraying your trust? I swear, if she doesn’t take some sort of responsibility—”

 

“She did, Damian,” Janis assures him before he can go off on a tangent. “And it’s all good now. She can do what she wants when it comes to interviewing people. But she’s sorry for all the other stuff. She feels like shit. But, um… Yeah.” She scratches her neck, debating confiding in him about Regina. He looks at her with such concerned eyes, she can’t possibly leave him out of the loop. So she takes a deep breath and sinks onto the bench beside him. “Okay. Honesty hour.”

 

He takes her hands in both of his. “My favorite time of day.”

 

Damian already knows, like Cady knew, just not the whole story. So Janis recounts it from the start like she did yesterday, looking down at their entwined hands as she tells it, more afraid to see his reaction than Cady’s. But Damian is calm—he doesn’t panic, even if he might be on the inside, because that is not going to help Janis. He does cry and then she starts crying because she feels bad for making him cry, then she tells him she’s aware it wasn’t a normal experience and Cady helped her come to terms with that. Damian hugs her then, not asking questions, not making a scene. Just hugs her, lets her cry a bit.

 

Janis hopes telling people, opening up, gets easier. She needs it to get easier if she wants to move on. She doesn’t want to be held back by Regina anymore. She can’t live her life with that girl’s hooks still firmly wedged inside her. It’s time to cut them out.

 

People are abuzz by lunch, and Janis automatically assumes it’s going to be about her. Cady isn’t waiting at their table, and Karen Smith and Aaron Samuels aren’t around either. Sonja sees Janis and Damian looking confused and waves them over. They approach cautiously.

 

“I saw your friend follow Karen Smith into the girls’ room,” she informs them.

 

“Do you know what’s going on?” Janis asks, wondering what the fresh hell is happening.

 

A guy sitting next to Sonja snorts. “Smith’s nudes got leaked. Regina George sent them to the Mathletes and some of the guys on the football team just to embarrass her. I thought those two were tight, but Regina turned on her only friend.” He cackles. Janis isn’t amused.

 

She doesn’t feel it’s her place to go find Cady or help Karen, so Janis wanders to their table and sits, and Damian joins her. They’re too astonished to remember they should be eating something. Regina really is a back-stabbing, two-timing piece of shit.

 

“Wonder what made her turn on Karen,” Damian ponders, right as Janis’s phone dings with a text from Cady.

 

 

“Don’t know,” Janis answers Damian after replying to Cady. “But Regina doesn’t really need a reason to wreak havoc.”

 

* * *

 

Cady calls Janis later after school to check in. “Hi. Sorry I left, but Karen was a mess,” she says apologetically.

 

“It’s fine. You had to help your friend.” Regardless of Janis’s personal feelings toward Karen, she doesn’t think she deserved to have her privacy violated like that. “Is, uh, is she okay? I mean, obviously not, but like… You know. How is she doing?”

 

Cady sighs. “She’s really upset. She doesn’t know why Regina did it, but she thinks it might have to do with Aaron. They were texting the other night while she was with her and Regina might’ve noticed or gone through her phone or something. She isn’t sure, though. But yeah.”

 

“Yikes.” Janis runs a hand through her hair, falling back onto her pillows. “That sounds like something Regina would do, though. Even if she didn’t care about Aaron she still sees him as her property and got jealous. Straight people are so fucking weird.”

 

Cady laughs. “Seriously. Why would she get jealous over her friend talking to her ex who she never even liked in the first place?”

 

“Correction: Regina is straight and she’s super fucking weird. And wildly possessive.” Janis rolls her eyes. “Anyway. Are you still at Karen’s?”

 

“Yeah, I made her soup and she’s watching _Legally Blonde_ ,” Cady tells her. “It’s her comfort movie, I guess.”

 

“That’s cute. You’re a good friend for helping her out,” Janis murmurs, trying not to feel jealous herself. Maybe not jealous, just paranoid Cady will abandon her for Karen. It would make sense, there’s typically no drama with Karen as a person. Janis has baggage upon baggage. Karen is a small purse.

 

“I do what I can,” Cady says modestly. “She’s been such a huge help with this whole thing, risking everything to get Regina to implicate herself. Regina treats her like shit, it makes me sick. When this is all said and done I hope she can find happiness.”

 

Karen isn’t all that bad, she’s just been willfully ignorant about how Regina treated Janis when they were friends. She’s never done anything _to_ Janis, but she didn’t help her out, either. But that’s not necessarily Karen’s fault; everyone Regina’s had in her corner has had to do things to survive. Janis can’t hold that against Karen when Karen is a victim, too. Which makes her wonder what Gretchen’s deal is—always nervous and insecure when she knew her, which, as much as it pains Janis to admit it, could make her a victim, too. Doesn’t excuse her actions now, but nobody can ever be as genuinely evil as Regina.

 

Everyone has a story, Janis begrudgingly knows that.

 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna hang out here until I have to go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Okay. See you. Thanks for, uh, calling.” _I miss you. I missed your voice._

 

“Sure. Um, okay.” The shortest pause. “I love you, Janis.”

 

Janis can feel her smile all the way to her ears. “Love you too, Caddy.”

 

* * *

 

Janis falls asleep that night, but her dreams are rudely interrupted by memories she thought she’d pushed down. There’s black spots in that day in March, her brain refusing to remember specifics about what she and Regina did. But they’re resurfacing now, somehow worse than when it happened. Because Janis wasn’t fully aware of herself as it happened. Remembering it later, now that she knows it wasn’t okay, is scarier than when she lived it.

 

Janis didn’t want it, didn’t want any of it, even when it felt good she didn’t want it. When Regina demanded things, she fully detached from it all. The invasive memories swirl around uncomfortably in Janis’s head. She forced herself to forget for a reason.

 

She feels like she can’t breathe. Regina’s on top of her, kissing her, hands on her body in places where they shouldn’t be. Janis can’t breathe. Regina’s sucking her soul out from her chest like a Dementor. Regina always laughed at Janis for being scared of them.

 

_Stop, stop, stop_ echoes in her head, either at Regina or her brain to stop showing her this. She doesn’t consent to remembering any more than she consented to what they did. She wants it to stop. She can’t breathe. But her body isn’t hers. Neither is her mind. They never, ever were hers.

 

It ends suddenly, the dream going dark, and Janis feels like she’s floating to the surface of water. She jolts awake, startled by the voice above her. Blinking into reality, pulse thumping in her ears, Janis finds herself in her own bed, her father there.

 

“Dad?” she croaks, and her voice is tiny. It’s still dark out; light from the hallway spills in through her opened door. She reaches out, grasping his shoulder. It’s him, not her. She’s safe. She’s okay. She lurches upward to hug his neck, quivering violently. He holds her in his arms.

 

“You’re alright,” he murmurs, rubbing her back. “You’re okay, baby, it was just a dream.”

 

Except it wasn’t. Nothing Regina did to Janis will ever be just a dream.

 

* * *

 

The following Wednesday is a day that should go down in history books.

 

People are still talking about Karen’s nudes, but they’re back to gossiping over Janis, too. Regina, apparently, is back on her destructive bullshit, because Janis has several people—mostly guys—come up to her and ask if she really likes this or that kink, or if what Regina’s been saying is true.

 

Needless to say, Damian has to physically restrain Cady more so than Janis.

 

Janis is seething by the time lunch rolls around, embarrassed and discomfited from the number of people who are asking her far too many sexual things. It was bad enough to have a nightmare about it, only to come to school and feel violated all over again.

 

“I can’t believe the _nerve_ of her,” Cady fumes, and Taylor pats her shoulder sympathetically. “I mean, what the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck?”

 

“It’s whatever, Caddy,” Janis mumbles. “We can’t make them not listen to her. People don’t care about reputations, they care about gossip.”

 

“Idiots,” Cady snarls, her face all scrunched up. Janis finds it incredibly cute.

 

Then she spots Regina strolling casually into the cafeteria, waggling her fingers at someone when they whistle. Janis watches her get a basket of cheese fries, not oblivious to the world around her but uncaring what she’s set in motion. Janis is suddenly filled with a rage that’s hotter than anything she’s felt before, igniting hot and white. There’s no fear, just flat-out wrath. How dare Regina keep living her life like she hasn’t ruined Janis’s? How dare she go around spinning a new story about what Janis is like in bed? Why does she get to live without consequences, while Janis battles every day with the trauma she inflicted upon her?

 

Janis is standing from her table and marching to where the Plastics usually sit, the table closest to the cafeteria entrance. She steps onto the bench then the tabletop itself, and bellows, “REGINA!” before Regina can strut away, back to her pretty pink life.

 

Regina jumps, but turns around, startled when she sees it’s Janis. People are twisting around to stare, their voices dropping to a hum. Janis stares Regina down, looking at her stupid Barbie face without flinching. “Yeah. Hi,” Janis greets, waving sarcastically. “Good afternoon, your majesty. I have some things to say.”

 

Regina tosses her hair, languidly chewing a fry. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

 

Janis smiles. “What you’ve been saying about me, only about you. Because I was there. And I remember everything. But first I wanna say, to everyone in this stupid school, I can’t make you believe me and I don’t expect most of you to. But you know what? I don’t care. I don’t care what other people think. I know my truth. I know what happened to me. I know what you did, Regina. And I only need myself to believe it, and I only need the people I care about to believe it.”

 

She glances over her shoulder, and takes courage from Cady’s smile.

 

“So, Regina, you’ve been telling people what I’m like in bed,” Janis continues, her voice carrying strong and loud throughout the room. “Even though none of it’s true. I don’t even know what I like in bed, because I can’t think about sex without remembering having it with you. But the thing is, it wasn’t sex if I couldn’t consent. You made sure that I wouldn’t be able to. Because you wanted to see how ‘willing’ I was to be with you. You lied to my face about your sexuality to get me in your bed, and then kept going even though it was obvious I wasn’t ready, and that I was scared.

 

“You did things to me first. You took my clothes off, you took my dignity, you took a part of me that I was saving. Because everything I’d already given you wasn’t enough, huh? You wanted every last piece of me you could get. You used me and took my choices away. Like an invisible trophy you keep polished on the shelf above your bed. But I’m not your fucking trophy, Regina.”

 

She has the entire cafeteria in the palm of her hand. They’re listening—finally, they’re listening, and they hear her.

 

“So you wanna talk about what I’m like in bed? Fine.” Janis shrugs. “I can’t keep you from doing it and I can’t keep people from believing it. So why don’t I tell them a little bit about how your straight ass has sex with a girl? Where shall I start? Should I tell them how you eat pussy? ’Cause you suck at it.”

 

The entire cafeteria erupts and Janis hears Damian scream “OH MY _GOD_.” Regina looks downright shocked, and she stares up at Janis, suddenly looking small and fearful, like she didn’t anticipate Janis standing up for herself so publicly, so _boldly_.

 

Nobody stands up to the queen bee. Nobody calls her out. Except for the people who Cady has been interviewing, who are putting their voices to good use. Now Janis is another voice, perhaps the loudest one, as she stands on a table she used to sit at, looking down at the person who stole her from herself.

 

This is Janis taking back what’s rightfully hers. Not just her dignity, or even her body, but her voice.

 

“I want everyone to know you’re a rapist,” Janis spits next once the shouting settles a tad. “I want everybody to know you’re a pathological liar, and an abuser, and a fucking _rapist_. You did that to me. I know it’s not often we hear about girls who were raped by girls, but it happened to me, because you chose to do it to me. I didn’t have a say in it because you took that from me.” Now her voice wavers, but her resilience doesn’t.

 

Her voice only gets stronger as she presses on, “Like I said, I don’t care if people believe me. I really don’t. I don’t need them to. I believe me. My friends believe me. And you believe me because you know what you did. You raped me, Regina. But I won’t let you define me anymore. Who I was when I knew you, that was never me. So today’s a new day for me. I get to define who I am, not you, not what people think about me. Know why? Because I belong to me. I was never yours. And I was never weak, either. You only made me think I was.”

 

She steps down onto the bench, then to the floor. She walks right up to Regina, having to look down because Regina is a couple inches shorter. Regina actually steps back and away from her, unable to look away from her glaring, confident eyes.

 

“So keep talking,” she says in her normal voice, lifting a shoulder nonchalantly. “See if people still listen to you. But I know my truth, and now so do they. What they choose to believe is up to them. But you know it, and I know it. So—” and she raises her right middle finger, smiling pleasantly, “go to hell, Regina.”

 

And then she walks out of the cafeteria with her head high rather than down, and she feels so light she could float away. But she doesn’t, because soon Cady is catching up to her and practically tackling her into a hug, her anchor once again as her feet stay planted on the floor.

 

Janis buries her face in Cady’s hair, dimly aware Damian and Taylor are watching, and lets herself cry. But for once, she’s smiling through her tears.


	28. pt 5: ch 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay gays, here is what you’ve all been anxiously waiting for. thanks for your patience. this one’s for you xo
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  emotional abuse mention   
>  sexual abuse mention

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### twenty-eight

 

 

 

Cady’s head is still spinning from yesterday afternoon, and she’s lost in thought until Aaron tracks her down after health class to tell her someone wants to talk during break. He heads for the auditorium first, then she follows a couple minutes later, going outside then reentering from there so no one will get suspicious.

 

“You okay?” he asks her as they’re waiting for their next interviewee to show up.

 

Cady sighs, rubbing her temples to ward off a headache. “Yeah. Just…overwhelmed, I guess.”

 

He goes to put an arm around her then decides to keep it to himself, though she wouldn’t have minded at all. “Oh,” he says, playing it off by scratching his neck. “Everything alright? With you and Sarkisian? I know you guys haven’t been talking, so…”

 

“No, we’re fine,” Cady assures him. “We made up yesterday. I apologized. But that’s not it. I mean, it’s about Janis, but I can’t…talk about it.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron replies, not offended she won’t confide in him.

 

Silences are never awkward with Aaron, and she appreciates it more than he’ll ever know. There isn’t any underlying sexual tension or potential “what-ifs” hanging between them. It’s basically reversed, where Cady feels romantic tension with Janis instead. With Aaron, he’s just her friend.

 

A girl enters the auditorium then, and Cady takes a deep breath, then waves her over.

 

* * *

 

Later, Cady and Aaron are walking to the cafeteria together when there is commotion up ahead, and Cady is startled to see Karen cowering against the lockers as a couple senior guys laugh at her before strolling into the cafeteria. Cady and Aaron hurry over to her, but she’s already running away, so they follow her to the girls’ bathroom. Cady instinctively expects Aaron to go in with her, so she doesn’t feel bad about leaving him behind. She hears Karen sobbing, already locked in a stall.

 

“Karen,” Cady says urgently, knocking on the door. “Karen, open up, it’s Cady. Let me help.”

 

Karen says something unintelligible in response, but unlocks the door for her. Cady shuts it, then turns to face a hysterical Karen, who is sinking to the floor. Cady kneels to grab her shoulders as she hides her face in her hands. “Karen. What just happened?”

 

Karen lets out a shrill sob, and Cady rubs her arm helplessly, trying to calm her enough to understand what’s going on. Ultimately Karen emerges from her hands, eyes red and face tear-streaked, and she seems so little and childlike in her fear. “Regina,” she weeps, to Cady’s surprise and confusion. “R-Regina, she—my pictures—she sent my p-pictures to people—oh, God—” She cries harder, hiding under her hair.

 

“What?” Cady says softly, caught off-guard. She thought those two boys had been harassing Karen, and maybe they were, but wasn’t prepared to hear Regina could’ve had something to do with it. “Karen, look at me. What are you talking about? What pictures? Why did Regina send them?”

 

“Because she hates me,” Karen sobs. “She—she found my nudes—she s-still had them from—from when I sent them to—to see what she thought.” She swipes at her eyes but the tears keep pouring. “And she—she sent them to the f-football team b-because she hates me. B-because she saw me t-talking to Aaron.”

 

“Okay,” Cady says, still thrown, “why the football team? And when did she see you?”

 

“My texts,” Karen replies brokenly. “She s-saw my texts. It had to be the texts, because I don’t t-talk to him at school. And she got mad. So she—so she sent my nudes to—to the football team and the fucking _Mathletes_.” She breaks down again, humiliated.

 

Cady coaxes her forward and she curls into her chest, arms around Cady’s waist. Cady holds her protectively and lets her cry, internally seething with loathing for Regina. It is one thing to make your friend feel inferior and self-conscious about her body, it’s another to send private photos to boys in school in an attempt to shame her. Cady decides it’d be best to just take her home, since it isn’t safe for Karen to be here right now.

 

Aaron is waiting outside when Cady cajoles Karen into leaving school. “What happened?” he demands, and Karen shrinks into Cady automatically.

 

“It’s fine. We’re fine.” Cady waves him off, shaking her head at him. “Go. I’ll text you.”

 

“Where you going?” he asks. For a smart guy, he’s sort of thick sometimes.

 

“I’m taking her home. C’mon, Karen.” She takes Karen’s hand and heads for the entrance, glancing over her shoulder to give Aaron an apologetic parting look. But he looks concerned, not insulted, and his eyes are on the back of Karen’s head.

 

Karen’s house is fifteen minutes away on foot, and of course it’s exceptionally cold today, so they walk to the nearest bus stop and wait. They huddle together on the bench for warmth, Karen resting her head on Cady’s shoulder. “I’m sorry if I ruined the plan,” she sniffles guiltily.

 

“What? You didn’t ruin anything,” Cady comforts, wondering what the correlation is. “Our plan changed, remember? We’re recording other people talk about Regina. You’ve been amazing throughout this whole thing, though. And it isn’t your fault she did what she did. This was a violation of privacy, and your trust.”

 

Karen sighs. “I shouldn’t have sent them to her, but she always asks to see.”

 

God, Regina’s such a creep. No girl who’s actually into girls would behave like such a predator. This is a psychopathic straight girl who takes advantage of her friends in each way imaginable, wanting to inflict as much pain and embarrassment onto them as possible.

 

“You trusted her with those photos,” Cady tells Karen. “And she broke your trust by sharing them after jumping to conclusions.”

 

“If she saw my texts,” Karen murmurs, “it’s pretty obvious I like Aaron.”

 

Cady raises her eyebrows, lips parted as she looks down at her friend. Karen tilts her head back, smiling sheepishly. “You like Aaron?” Cady says, heart soaring. “What, do you guys like each other? I mean, what were you talking about? You two?”

 

“Like, theoretically,” Karen says. “I told him he’s cute and he said I’m cuter and at first I think we both thought the other was joking, but then it turned kinda flirty, and then… I dunno. He’s really cute. And he smells good, and he gives good hugs, and he always seems happy to see me. People don’t really do that.”

 

Cady squeezes her. “I’m always happy to see you, too. And you deserve it, whatever happens for you guys.”

 

“Thanks, Cady,” Karen whispers shyly, and their bus turns the corner towards them.

 

* * *

 

Cady’s mother picks her up on her way home from work, and Cady is only content to leave Karen because she fell asleep. She texts her in the car letting her know she left, but is a text or phone call away if needed. She also mentions she loves her and that Karen is going to be okay.

 

“Long day?” Mrs. Heron asks as Cady sighs, slipping her phone into her backpack.

 

“You have no idea.” Cady closes her tired eyes, her whole body heavy with fatigue. She didn’t do much physically, but mentally she’s been in protective friend mode, which tuckers her out. She still feels sick for Karen, wishing there was more she could do.

 

“Are you and Janis still friends?” her mother inquires a minute later, sounding hesitant to broach the subject but agonizingly curious anyway.

 

“Yeah, we made up yesterday, actually,” Cady answers, and she makes a pleased sound.

 

“Oh, good. I miss that girl, I’m glad you two worked it out.”

 

“Me, too, Mom.” Cady looks out the frosted window at the passing streets.

 

There’s another pause, then Mrs. Heron turns the volume down on the radio. Cady looks at her questioningly. “I’ve been doing what you said,” she murmurs, staring straight ahead. “Thinking about…me. And how I’ve acted over the years. And how that’s probably affected you.”

 

_No fucking shit, Mom,_ Cady doesn’t say. For once, she’s mute.

 

Her mom’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. She chews her lip the way Cady does. “I just love you a lot. And I want you to be your best and do your best. But you’re right about…projecting too much. I guess I just wanted you to crave the validation I didn’t get when I was younger. I wanted to feel like a good mother so badly, but I did it wrong and…that hurt you.” She tears up suddenly, and Cady does too. “And what sucks is I can’t take it back. However you feel about it, however you handle it, I can’t change it. I can’t undo the damage. Please know I never meant to hurt you, ever.”

 

“I know,” Cady says quietly. “But that doesn’t mean it hurts less than if you did.”

 

Mrs. Heron nods her understanding. The always-healing cuts on Cady’s thighs are itching. She won’t tell her mom about that—she can’t. She knows it’s bad and she should stop but when it’s happening it feels like the correct way to cope with the flurry of emotions in her head. There’s shame when she comes back to herself, but not enough for her to find a way to quit. She goes back and forth with it. It’s like her little secret, the one thing about her no one will ever know about.

 

She needs control. She needs the choice, after being denied her right to choose for so long.

 

“Thank you, Mom,” Cady murmurs, wanting to be mature. There’s other points that need to be made, other things they should touch on and get to the bottom of, but Cady’s too tired to deal with it right now. She reaches out and her mother takes her hand. “I don’t mean to hurt you, either.”

 

“You haven’t, baby,” Mrs. Heron whispers, squeezing her fingers. “You couldn’t.”

 

_That’s one person, at least,_ Cady thinks bitterly, gazing out the window again, but lets out a breath she’s been holding in for years.

 

* * *

 

Now that nobody particularly cares about the Plastics, Karen can hang around Cady and not worry about blowing their secret. She sticks close to her all week, even coming to sit with Cady and the other Outcasts at lunch. Cady is pleasantly surprised at how kind Janis is towards Karen all of a sudden.

 

On Wednesday at lunch, Karen joins Aaron at his table, and Cady grins at them across the room when Aaron puts his arm defensively around Karen’s shoulders. He winks at Cady when they make eye contact, and she gives him a double thumbs-up of approval.

 

That’s probably the first highlight of today. Other than that, today has been unbelievably frustrating, due to all the creepy shit people have been asking Janis and putting her on the spot. Cady’s lost count of the number of fights she’s almost gotten into.

 

When Janis abruptly stands from their table and storms off, Cady is alarmed, standing herself to see where she’s going. Janis climbs onto the Plastics’ empty table to shout Regina’s name with anger and conviction, and goosebumps rise on Cady’s arms just from that alone.

 

“I only need myself to believe it, and I only need the people I care about to believe it.”

 

When Janis looks back toward Cady, the pride Cady feels is like nothing she’s ever felt before. It swells in her chest like a balloon, pressing against her ribs and heart. Love is present in the sensation, too—so much fucking love, it makes Cady dizzy. It underlies everything, pumping through her veins with her blood.

 

Cady, Taylor, and Damian collectively hold their breath as Janis gets up in Regina’s face to conclude her speech, then stalks out of the cafeteria. They go after her, without a moment’s hesitation, passing a shell-shocked Regina. Cady races to catch up with Janis and pulls her into a hug, heart thumping so fast she wonders if Janis can hear it. Janis leans heavily into her embrace, crying with her, and Cady is so happy and so proud she can feel it pressing against her skin. Janis did that—she got up there, in front of everyone, and called out her abuser—her rapist—like she’s deserved to for so long.

 

When Janis pulls back, her hands stay on Cady’s waist while Cady’s hands go to cup her face. They’re both smiling so wide their cheeks are going to hurt later, and despite the fact Damian and Taylor are ten feet away, the hallway is so vast and Cady feels like Janis is the only person here. All she feels is the heat of Janis’s soft cheeks, all she sees is Janis’s big dark eyes looking at her like she’s seeing the sun up close but is amazed that she’s not getting burned.

 

It feels right, so they do the obvious thing. Cady rises up on her tiptoes the same moment Janis’s hands tug her closer, and then there is no space between them at all, just bodies pressing together as their lips touch. Cady dimly processes Taylor’s squeal of delight and Damian’s hysterical gibberish, and she keeps grinning against Janis’s lips. It doesn’t hit her until half a second later that, holy shit, this is happening.

 

Cady is kissing Janis. Janis is kissing Cady. The sun and moon and stars and planets all aligned for this moment—Cady can feel the universe inside her, growing ten times bigger from the amount of joy and love and safety she’s feeling. Janis’s mouth is perfect, more perfect than she could’ve imagined, her hands gentle but firm on Cady’s hips like she’s afraid to let go. Even if she did, Cady isn’t going anywhere. This is where she belongs. With her.

 

“Oh my God,” Damian is sobbing. “Oh my God, it’s too much, my gay heart can’t take it.”

 

When they finally pull apart, Cady can see stars in Janis’s eyes. She rubs her thumb under Janis’s eye, catching a stray tear. They’re both blushing, and Janis makes a tiny humming sound of contentment, then kisses Cady again, softer than before.

 

Their hands soon fall, finding each other, their fingers lacing together. Cady bites her lip, smiling down at her feet as Damian laments about how he can’t take it and how he will never be this happy ever again in his life. Cady can relate. It feels like all the joy she couldn’t feel before is bursting inside her like comets colliding.

 

Maybe that’s what love is. Two comets crashing into one another, sparks flying, loud and dangerous. Loud and big and beautiful.

 

Later when Janis leaves Cady’s house, she sneaks a kiss on the front porch. “I’ll text you.”

 

“Okay,” Cady giggles, utterly lovestruck. And so they’re on their phones well into the night.

 

* * *

 

Their energy is different. It shifts, like two magnets finally coming together. It makes Cady giddy.

 

Regina can’t go anywhere without people giving her scathing looks, and those same people come up to Janis in between classes to tell her what she did was brave and that they’re sorry for contributing to her harassment. Cady’s glowing with pride, absolutely overflowing with it.

 

But something slices through the goodness, tainting it just a little. A horrific reality that no one was really prepared for. A girl comes to see Cady and Aaron in the auditorium a couple days later, and after receiving reassurances from Cady, she delves into a story about Regina that’s different than all the rest.

 

Their fellow sophomore happens to be gay. Gretchen found out somehow and told Regina, who then requested she come see her in the girls’ bathroom one day in October if she wanted to make a deal. Regina made a comment about how she was glad the dress code enforced skirts on girls, because they “give easy access.” She made the girl get on her knees. Cady feels lightheaded and nauseous listening to the rest.

 

She gives the girl, Amy, a hug before she leaves, thanking her for telling them. Amy sniffs and says to her, “I’m—I’m too shy to tell her myself, but let Janis know how much I—how much I support her. Tell her she isn’t alone. There’s more of us who can relate than anybody realizes.”

 

Aaron is in complete shock. “What the hell,” he whispers when Cady sits down.

 

They look at each other with wide, petrified eyes. _There’s more of us who can relate._ After hearing that, Cady isn’t surprised in the slightest.

 

And so throughout the remainder of the week, more people come forward. Students come with friends to tell their stories together. The gist is overall the same—Gretchen’s ability to uncover people’s secrets lead them to having scarring encounters with Regina in exchange for her silence.

 

They’re all gathered in Janis’s basement that Saturday, an unexpectedly solid group of people, joined together by a common evil. Cady looks around at the faces of her friends, feeling a melancholy ache in her chest for each of them. She smiles a bit, though, seeing Karen and Janis sit together, the quilt draped over their laps. Now that they’ve been connected by their mutual dislike of Regina, Cady is positive something good can come of that.

 

Karen sighs then, leaning over to the coffee table to tap into her voice memos. They watch in shared confusion, then awareness dawns on Cady and she inhales audibly. A shy look passes over Karen’s face when she says, “I wanna talk about Regina, too.”

 

And so they all sit in respectful silence as Karen recounts her friendship with Regina, Janis letting her cling to her hand in quiet solidarity.

 

* * *

 

Janis runs her fingertips up and down Cady’s arm, her other set of fingers playing with her hair. The basement is empty now save for them, illuminated by the glow of the TV as they watch one of the thrillers they didn’t get around to seeing in October.

 

Cady rolls over when the credits begin to play, and Janis lightly touches her cheek. “Are you okay?”

 

“No,” Cady admits honestly, pulls herself up in favor of sitting in Janis’s lap. “I didn’t know how emotionally taxing collecting these tapes would be. I feel like I don’t have the mental capacity for it all. And now that people are saying Regina sexually abused them, it’s just…it hits hard.”

 

“Yeah,” Janis murmurs. “I don’t really know what to say when people tell me they think I’m brave or they’re proud of me, even. It’s weird. I don’t wanna be praised for it. This bad thing happened to me and I just wanted everyone to know what kind of person Regina really is. I don’t feel like I did anything…special.”

 

“You did, though,” Cady counters gently. “If you hadn’t, I doubt anyone would’ve found the courage themselves to talk about her. You’ve started something, Jan. You should be proud of yourself for that, at least. Inspiring others is always a cool feeling.”

 

Janis smiles uncertainly, but nods. She lifts her head then, and Cady leans in to kiss her, a tentative press of lips. Asking permission. Janis kisses her back, hand raising to cup the side of Cady’s face, deepening the kiss and making Cady snicker when she nips her bottom lip.

 

Cady ends up straddling Janis’s waist, and they’re laughing like nobody can hear them, hands in each other’s hair, kissing playfully and lazily and experimentally. Janis is a very good kisser. Cady isn’t too confident in her own skills, but Janis can teach her.

 

Cady is spending the night, and they don’t make it to Janis’s bed, Cady collapsing on top of Janis where they lay on the sofa in the dark. Janis sneaks her hands under her shirt—the same shirt she lent Cady months ago—to trace patterns on her back to calm her down. Their legs are entwined, the adrenaline rush tapering off as they lay there together beneath Janis’s infamous quilt. Cady breathes in the scent of Janis’s body wash, her shampoo, wondering how she lived her entire life without the smell of her. It’s jarring to remember they only met almost five months ago. It feels like they’ve lived a lifetime since Cady’s first day at North Shore.

 

“Damian was pretty psyched,” she mumbles, clinging to consciousness.

 

Janis snorts. “He’s been rooting for us this entire time. He knew I had a thing for you before I did.”

 

Cady hums a laugh. “I love him. He deserves only good things in life.”

 

“Yes, he does,” Janis agrees, kissing the top of Cady’s head. “Go to sleep, Caddy.”

 

“Why? I don’t wanna sleep. You smell good. And I’ll just miss you.”

 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Janis assures her good-naturedly, patting her hip. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

 

Cady sleepily holds out her pinky finger. “Promise?”

 

Janis hooks hers with Cady’s. “I promise, silly. Now sleep.”

 

Cady likes that as she drifts off into dreamland, Janis keeps their fingers entwined, like they should be, connecting them even in sleep.


	29. pt 5: ch 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> janis’s last chapter. it was so hard letting her go after i wrote this. i hope her story means as much to you as it does to me.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  suicide mention   
>  rape mention

 

 

##  _JANIS_

 

#### twenty-nine

 

 

 

Janis is happy to discover Cady Heron does not taste like bubblegum.

 

Cady is sweet, but in a different kind of way. A real way, not artificially flavored, like what Janis is tasting is authentic. The kiss itself isn’t very long, but it feels like centuries pass before their mouths pull apart. Janis envisions hearts circling her head.

 

Something else that surprises her is she doesn’t, not once, think of Regina during this moment. Regina doesn’t exist to her right now. All that matters is Cady, standing here in her arms, looking at her like she’s the happiest girl on earth. Janis personally feels like the luckiest. Her head spins.

 

Damian is losing his shit, and teary-eyed Taylor claps when Cady smiles sheepishly over at her. Janis only has eyes for her; she’s more content than she’s been in a while, like the outside world is irrelevant, like nothing else matters more than this.

 

She spends the rest of the day at Cady’s house, kissing her some more, neither of them talking. They don’t need to talk. They just want to feel.

 

Texting well into the night would only be a bad idea if Janis regretted it in the morning, but she’s so eager to get to school she isn’t even aware of how tired she is. Damian’s mother swings by to pick her up, and Damian is waiting smugly in the backseat, already giving her a look.

 

“I told you so,” he sings in a whisper, earning a sisterly punch in the ribs.

 

“Shut up,” she mutters, buckling her seatbelt. His smile only grows.

 

At school, Janis feels a surge of joy whenever Cady is near, and it drives her crazy that she can’t kiss her all day. She’s caught off guard when people begin coming up and telling her they think what she did was awesome, some even apologizing for going along with the bullying that Regina started. Janis never knows what to say except a timid thank you, but Cady seems pleased that people are coming to their senses.

 

Janis wasn’t planning on having both her friends and Cady’s hang out in her basement, but it feels right once they get used to each other’s company. When Karen delves in and adds her experience with Regina to the growing list, Janis holds her hand, squeezing it whenever her voice shakes.

 

Karen gives her a hug before she leaves later, and Janis returns it sincerely. Damian kisses both her and Cady on the forehead before departing. “Goodnight, my lovebirds, don’t stay up too late,” he coos, waving his arm grandiosely on his way out the door. Cady laughs.

 

“Well, we know who our number one shipper is,” she jokes.

 

Janis hums. “Yeah. We’re OTP material, I guess. Gasp, what if he writes fanfiction?”

 

Cady finds that unbearably funny, and laughs until she tires herself out. Janis wants to spend the rest of her life making Cady laugh like that.

 

* * *

 

Cady meets Abby the next morning at breakfast, and it’s wild to Janis how they’re living a meet-the-parents romcom moment without her dad or Abby knowing what exactly has been transpiring lately. But Janis likes having a secret that isn’t detrimental.

 

They’re in Janis’s room that afternoon, still clad in their pajamas, when Cady admits something. “Don’t get mad,” she prefaces, and Janis’s pencil stops where it’s sketching them on the page, “but, um, I’ve kinda seen all your drawings of me. The—the day after our sleepover, I looked through this.”

 

Janis feels a flash of irritation, then embarrassment, then confliction. “Oh.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Cady blurts, looking panicked. “I’m really sorry, I know I shouldn’t have—”

 

“No, Caddy, it’s fine,” Janis insists, not possessing the will to fight. “It’s whatever. I mean, thanks for telling me. But it’s no big deal. Was that also why you left without saying goodbye that day?” she adds, out of genuine curiosity. “Because you realized I liked you?”

 

“Maybe,” Cady mumbles, blushing, and Janis taps her on the nose with her eraser. They’ve been through too much for Janis to get mad about this. And maybe fate willed it so she didn’t have to _tell_ Cady explicitly how she feels. Cady saw with her own eyes the kind of things Janis feels for her.

 

Discussing their feelings is yet another elephant in the room, and Janis is sort of terrified to have that conversation. Not that she thinks Cady is just pulling her leg, but she’s enjoying this blissful honeymoon phase too much to pop the bubble so soon.

 

But Cady evidently wants to talk about it, because she murmurs several minutes later, “How much do you like me?”

 

“A whole sketchpad worth of drawings of you, that’s how much,” Janis answers amiably, then sees Cady’s doubtful expression. “Hey. I like you. I like you a lot. I’ve liked you for a pretty long time, Caddy. You’re always on my mind. Even when I’m mad at you, I still like you. Because the good always outweighs the bad. And you own up to the shit you do, and accountability is all I can ask for, really. Especially after Regina never took the blame for anything.”

 

Cady pushes Janis’s hair, long enough now it brushes her shoulders, aside so she can lean in and kiss the spot beneath Janis’s ear. “I’ve liked you for a long time, too,” she admits in a whisper, snuggling closer to her. “More than I thought was humanly possible.”

 

Janis grins. “Aw, Caddy, are you saying you think we’re soulmates?”

 

“Yes, my love, I do,” Cady answers dramatically, but the term of endearment makes Janis’s stomach flutter.

 

Janis pauses her artwork to lace their fingers together, sighing before asking, in all seriousness, “How do you wanna do this?”

 

“Do what?” Cady’s brow furrows. Janis is endeared by her innocence.

 

“I mean, how do you wanna…be together?” Janis clarifies, the words awkward in her mouth. “Or do you think maybe we should, I dunno, take it slow? Like, reeeeally, really slow? Because…” She bites her tongue, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t want this, because I do. But…a lot’s happening right now. For both of us. You’re gonna blow the Regina thing wide open and who knows what kind of storm that’s going to bring. And I’m—I don’t know.”

 

“No, what?” Cady pushes, squeezing Janis’s hand encouragingly.

 

Things are occurring to Janis as she speaks, and while they make her sad, she knows they can’t—shouldn’t—just rush into a relationship willy-nilly. Not when she is still so broken and searching for her missing pieces. Standing up to Regina was only the beginning.

 

“I just want to be whole for you,” Janis whispers, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to be some shattered thing you’re scrambling to put back together. I want to love you at my best so you don’t have to see me at my worst anymore. You’ve seen enough of that. You deserve a better me.”

 

“The only person you need to be whole for is yourself,” Cady argues firmly, and Janis looks at her. “Okay? Don’t talk like that. Recovery takes time. I can…be here for you if you need comfort or love or whatever, but you’re strong enough to rebuild yourself. I’ve seen how strong you are. As for who or what I deserve—that’s up to me. If I felt that you weren’t going to treat me right, no matter where you’re at healing wise, I wouldn’t have risked falling in love with you. But I trust you, Janis. It’s time you trust yourself. It might seem impossible, but you’re capable of doing this. I know you can.”

 

That’s nice and all but Janis is focused on one part of that statement in particular. “You’re in love with me?”

 

Cady grins her cute shy grin and rests her chin on Janis’s shoulder. “Uh-huh,” she says. “Big time.”

 

Janis laughs shakily. “Well. What a coincidence. I’m big time in love with you, too, Caddy.”

 

Cady kisses her, and it feels like falling down a hole Janis is content to remain at the bottom of.

 

What she feels for Cady is more real than what she convinced herself she felt for Regina. Regina never made her this happy, made her feel this loved and important. She’s not only never been in love until now, but has never felt the love of another person like this.

 

“We can take it slow,” Cady says when they break apart. “I mean, I’m kinda broken, too. I don’t…I don’t know who I am sometimes, and it scares me. My mom and I, I think we’re making progress. We actually talk now. But I still wonder if I can be someone different, somebody I want to be. I don’t know who I am outside of her or the person she created. And it—it kinda drives me nuts. So then I wonder who it is you love.”

 

“You’re Caddy,” Janis whispers fondly. “My Caddy. I love your sense of humor, and your smile is all yours. You’re kind, and you’re stubborn but determined. Your mission in life is basically to help people. Even if the school doesn’t take your tapes seriously, you’ve helped a lot of people get some shit off their chests, shit they were too afraid and alone to say. You’re super freaking smart, too. A total nerd. You love calculus, and I remember you said you want to be a teacher. I think that’s cool, and your mom and dad will come to terms with how you want to pave your own path. Once they see that it’s important to you.”

 

Cady hums and smiles bashfully. “Tell me more. What else am I like?”

 

“Your favorite color is blue; you wish your hair was dyed blue. You love stars and space. You don’t think you can sing but you have a really pretty voice. You love dogs and Wilson fucking adores you, so obviously that means you’re worth something,” Janis teases, and Cady laughs. “Dogs know best. And you’re the best.”

 

“Thanks,” Cady says, rubbing her thumb along Janis’s, then sighs. “Okay. Maybe I am kind of a person.”

 

“Not maybe. Not kind of. You are.” Janis kisses the top of her head. “And I love her. That’s the girl I’ve always had a crush on. Not just because you’re pretty on the outside but because the inside is beautiful, too. And there’s more to you that you’ll discover as time goes on.”

 

“Will you help me look?” Cady asks modestly, and Janis smiles.

 

“I’d be honored, Caddy dearest,” she drawls, and Cady kisses her again.

 

* * *

 

There’s one other person Janis wants Cady to meet before they move forward with whatever they’re trying to be.

 

Cady grips Janis’s hand as they march up the path and down the row of graves to where Janis’s mother is. When they get to her headstone, they look down at it for a silent minute. Then Janis exhales and says, “Hey, Mama. I brought a friend today. This is Caddy, I told you about her a few weeks ago.”

 

Cady waves shyly at the ground. “Hi, Mrs. Sarkisian. It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“Caddy’s kinda my girlfriend now,” Janis continues, and Cady grins. “Yeah, kind of. We’re figuring it out. I really like her, though. I thought I was in love before but I didn’t get what it was supposed to feel like until now. And it’s pretty grool, as Caddy would say.”

 

“Yeah, Janis is great,” Cady adds. “She’s the best. You’d be proud.”

 

Janis’s throat gets tight, and she squeezes Cady’s hand. “Um. I used to think that I’m someone people aren’t worth sticking around for,” she says. “For a long time I thought you killed yourself because I wasn’t enough for you to live for, like there was something wrong with me and not you. But then I grew up and I realized it’s not about me at all. I give so much to people and sometimes they take that for granted. But it wasn’t like that with you, because you just…you needed an escape. Living was too much. So your solution was to die. And that’s…not okay, suicide is never the option, but I understand. You felt alone. I feel alone a lot, too, even though I’m not. I’m lucky to have people in my life I can count on. I wish more people had reached out rather than push you away. You might still be here.”

 

She sniffles against the cold, then continues. “I can’t forgive you when there’s nothing to forgive, when you didn’t intend to hurt me. You didn’t think you mattered, and were alone. That’s not my fault; that was the fault of whatever happened in your life that made you that way. But as a kid I didn’t realize that. I do now. And I wish I could go back and help you. Knowing what I do now, I wonder if I could’ve…made you believe you were strong enough, like I’m strong. You weren’t weak, you just…didn’t know your strength. There’s a difference between that and actually being weak. Neither of us are.”

 

Cady leans her head on Janis’s arm, encouraging her to carry on. “Some really bad things have happened to me since you’ve been gone, Mama,” Janis murmurs, hot tears welling fast. “And some days I feel like I can’t handle it. I think I’m gonna ask Dad to take me back to a therapist or something. Because I need help and there should not be shame in asking for help. ’Cause I deserve it, too, you know? I deserve to feel better and to be happy. I’m worth more than what I’ve been through. And…I’m pretty strong. I might not believe it half the time, but I am. And I’m not defined by what happened to me. Sometimes…what’s meant to break you makes you brave, I guess.”

 

Cady nods in agreement, and Janis feels warm despite the cold. “So,” she concludes, “I love you, Mama. I’m sorry the world didn’t do more for you. That it made you feel so alone. But I’m not alone, and I think you’d be glad. I’ll see you later, Mama.”

 

They walk back to her father’s car, their elbows linked. “I meant it,” Cady murmurs. “When I said she’d be proud of you.”

 

Janis looks up at the clouds. “Yeah. I think she would be, too.”

 

* * *

 

Janis climbs into the passenger’s seat after dropping Cady off at her house later that evening, and her father’s smile is weird.

 

“What?” Janis says, buckling her seatbelt. “What’s with the smile?”

 

“Huh? Oh, nothing.” But it gets bigger when he tries to hide it, and Janis groans. “Okay, fine. I just—I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

 

“I’m always uncomfortable, Dad,” Janis deadpans, and he snorts.

 

“Right. Well. You don’t have to tell me anything, it’s your business, but, uh…” He looks at her sideways. “Are you and Cady more than friends?”

 

Janis blushes, sinking into her seat from embarrassment. “What gives you that impression?” She _thought_ they’ve been pretty discreet…

 

“I looked in the rearview mirror while she was talking, and you were looking at her different than you did before,” he admits, and Janis rolls her eyes, still mortified. “I dunno, things just seem different for you guys all of a sudden. I don’t mind, of course.”

 

“You don’t?” Janis murmurs, and he looks at her in surprise.

 

“Yeah,” he says, and touches her arm while they’re at a stop sign. “Hey. You know I support you, right? I mean, I don’t—I don’t have a problem with you being gay. We don’t ever talk about it so I don’t get to tell you much, but I love you no matter what. Okay? I just want you to be happy, Jan.”

 

She’s trying so hard not to cry. She looks out the window so he can’t see her face, fussing with the belt across her lap. “Thanks, Dad,” she eventually whispers. “I want you to be happy, too. And that—it means a lot, it does. It’s just. I don’t know.”

 

He’s quiet for a moment as he drives, then he probes, “Do people at school still give you a hard time?”

 

She lifts a shoulder noncommittally. “Well, yeah. But things aren’t as bad as they used to be.”

 

It hits her very suddenly that she has to tell him. She actually has to tell him about Regina, and everything that’s happened at school. Maybe not everything, and maybe not her rape until she’s truly ready to bring it up, but in order to start seeing a psychiatrist again he should know the basics.

 

She’s still processing the reality of what Regina did to her. Sure, she stood up to her and called her out for what she is in front of everyone. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to stop haunting Janis. That she’s suddenly comfortable in her skin and feels strong all the time. That’s not realistic. Healing is a journey. There are going to be days where she won’t want to get out of bed, or days where she’s afraid to sleep because the memory of laying paralyzed on Regina’s is too much. Days where she is angry and bitter, searching for answers as to why it happened. Days where she just curls up, maybe in Cady’s arms, and does nothing but cry, feeling like she deserved it.

 

There’s never a silver lining to being taken advantage of in that way. But hope exists, and so does recovery, and maybe they’re the same.

 

Passing the bathroom back to her room, Janis realizes she hasn’t purged in a while. She hasn’t felt the need to, like she’s completely forgotten she was doing it at all. Janis shrugs and goes into her room, scooping up Ollie and greeting him with kisses.

 

Regina can’t control her anymore. Not her mind, not her weight, not her emotional state. Regina has no say in how Janis chooses to present herself or live her life. Regina’s nothing more than a manipulative, power-hungry monster, and she’s one person against the many who speak out against her.

 

Janis texts Cady to let her know she’s home, and Cady responds ten minutes later with a selfie of her and Wilson. Janis sends one back of her and Ollie. Cady calls her on FaceTime, saying it’s because she misses her face. “Yikes, we’re that couple?” Janis groans.

 

“Hell yeah we’re that couple,” Cady says cheerfully. “If straight people can be annoying and gross, so can we.”

 

“Just not in public,” Janis reminds her. “No, I’m not bitter at all.”

 

Cady sighs, like she’s realizing the severity of the situation just now. “Yeah. We gotta be careful. Can we still hold hands in public? We always do that.”

 

“Of course,” Janis hums, unable to imagine a world where she isn’t comfortable holding Cady’s hand. “If we tone down the gay, people won’t suspect anything. Gal pal mode activated.” She salutes, and Cady cracks up laughing. That “two girls who are clearly together but also might just be friends” narrative is ridiculous.

 

“I wish I was still at your house,” Cady laments. “I miss you.”

 

“I miss you, too. I guess we’re both gonna be the clingy girlfriend, huh?”

 

Cady giggles. “Yeah. Except I’m just exceptionally annoying.”

 

“No you aren’t,” Janis argues, pouting. “Don’t say that. You’re not annoying.”

 

Cady makes a doubtful sound but doesn’t argue. She crawls to the end of her bed and flips the camera to show Wilson on the floor. “Wilson, say hi to your other mom,” she coaxes, and Janis calls his name. He perks his ears at the sound of her voice, intrigued.

 

Ollie gets up and leaves when he realizes the attention is no longer on him.

 

“So, um,” Cady says after sinking to the floor to sit with her dog, “I think we’ve gotten enough tapes to take to the principal. Me and Aaron are gonna review everything, and I think we’re gonna put it all on a disk or something, with Gretchen’s screenshots and Karen’s audios attached to correlate some of the stories.”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Janis approves. “I hope Mr. Duvall proves me wrong.”

 

“Me too,” Cady murmurs, and they’re quiet for a minute. Janis looks at Cady’s pixelated face while she scratches Wilson’s ears. Janis truly admires Cady so much—this isn’t something that anybody should take lightly, and Cady is still putting herself through the emotional ringer trying to help these people. Janis genuinely hopes the school takes the evidence seriously. She’s just cautiously optimistic, afraid to be let down.

 

“What do you want for your birthday?” Janis pipes up, remembering it’s ten days away.

 

“Huh? Oh. I don’t know.” Cady seems startled, like she forgot, too. “I mean, we just had Christmas. I might wanna take everybody out to dinner or something.”

 

“Aw, a double date,” Janis coos. “With Taylor and Damian as the third party couple who aren’t really a couple.”

 

“He won’t complain, not now that his shipper dreams came true,” Cady jokes.

 

Janis snorts. “Yeah. He’s so funny. He needs a boyfriend, though. Someone to keep him occupied.”

 

“Maybe that should be our next mission,” Cady says brightly. “Operation Find Damian A Man.”

 

Janis cackles. “Yes. I’ll happily help with that. It’s what he deserves.”

 

They talk for a while longer, unwilling to say goodnight just yet. Janis gets sleepy, Cady’s voice serenading her. To find comfort in the voice of the girl you love is a precious thing Janis didn’t know she needed. It’s like she hears Cady differently now. Clearer, sweeter, softer.

 

They both retrieve their rainbow Build-A-Bears to prove they still have them, prior to reluctantly hanging up. Janis goes to bed that night feeling content, truly content for the first time in a while. Her heart doesn’t race, her body doesn’t ache. It’s peaceful.

 

For now, at least, she revels in the calm. It may last, it might not. But she’ll see Cady tomorrow, and it’s a new day, a chance to start over.

 

Janis falls asleep, assured that one day—maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but one day—she’ll be okay. She’ll get there. And Cady will be by her side even after.


	30. pt 5: ch 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ll save the emotional last author’s note for the epilogue. enjoy this for now, sweet friends.
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  referenced self harm

 

 

##  _CADY_

 

#### thirty

 

 

 

Wilson greets Cady when she walks in and she bends down to hug him. Her mom appears to embrace her as well, and for once the hug doesn’t feel stiff or forced. “Did you have fun?” Mrs. Heron asks expectantly, and Cady nods. Her head is spinning from everything that happened and what she and Janis talked about today.

 

“I missed you,” her mother says quietly, so Cady gives her another hug.

 

“I missed you, too,” she murmurs, but isn’t sure if she believes it.

 

Cady was honest with Janis when she told her she and her mom have been talking it out recently. They are making progress and they’re beginning to understand the other’s point of view. But on top of everything else, Cady is exhausted from that, too.

 

She reminds herself it’s okay to still harbor a grudge. She’s allowed to be pissed and feel cheated and upset that she has difficulty having confidence in who she is. It’s okay to still be frustrated. Her mother’s behavior isn’t going to magically fix itself over night. Communication is what they have to keep up on.

 

Receiving an apology doesn’t mean she has to offer her forgiveness. No one’s entitled to her amnesty. If she’s been hurt, she can just be hurt. Hearing someone say they’re sorry is nice and appreciated, but it doesn’t erase the damage. And not instantly forgiving them isn’t wrong.

 

Cady digs under her sink before her shower, retrieving her razor from its hiding spot. She sits back on her knees, running a fingertip lightly along the sharp edge, wondering if she could do it one last time. But after today, after the talk she had with Janis and listening to Janis’s speech at her mother’s grave, Cady realized there’s different ways to cope. She can ask for help, too. Find an alternative that isn’t so dangerous.

 

She’ll start there, and if that doesn’t work, she’ll tell someone. That’s a good plan. She likes that plan.

 

She flushes the razor down the toilet rather than throwing it in the trash to lessen the urge to go back for it. She smiles a little, freed.

 

* * *

 

“What do you wanna do for your birthday, kid?” Cady’s father asks the next morning, straightening his tie.

 

“I seriously have no idea,” Cady says around a mouthful of cereal. “I guess dinner with my friends or something. I don’t even want anything.”

 

“You always say that,” Mr. Heron sighs, shaking his head. “You have to have birthday presents.”

 

“Fine. Donate the money you’d put towards gifts to the ASPCA or whatever.” Cady shrugs. “I really don’t want anything. I already got cool stuff for Christmas. I’m happy with my gift money going toward a good cause instead. You’re a vet, be psyched.”

 

He chuckles, then swoops in to kiss her cheek in farewell. “Alright. I’ll talk to your mom about it. Have a good day, sweetheart.”

 

Cady hesitates before calling after him to wait, and he turns to acknowledge her at the front door. Cady slides off her stool to go to him. “Um. Question. I know you want me to be a veterinarian, but… What’d be so bad about being a professor like you? You and Mom always say I should do something else.”

 

Mr. Heron seems surprised, but not annoyed she brought it up. “Oh. Well. It’s not that I don’t like being a teacher or think you wouldn’t be good at it, it’s just a tough job and I’ve always pictured you working with animals since you love them so much.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, I do,” Cady agrees. “But not enough to have a career with them. I think I’d like teaching. I like helping people. It just—seems like you’d be disappointed in me if I went to school for that and not something to do with animals. Like, I want a job that’ll make _me_ happy. Not—not you.”

 

“I didn’t know you felt that way, kid,” he replies, sounding sad, but not because she wants a different career than the one he and her mom have assumed she’d want. “We’d want you to be happy, too. And if you wanna be a teacher, then you go right ahead. But you don’t need to make that decision now, honey. You’re seventeen. You have time to figure yourself out. And graduating next year doesn’t mean you have to go to college that fall, either. You can take time off to just live your life.”

 

“Really?” She’s taken aback by how casually he’s responding to this.

 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “There’s no pressure. Besides, we wouldn’t be mad to have you around a bit longer. But I’m sorry we made you feel like you can’t do what you’re interested in. We’ll support you no matter what you end up doing. Okay?”

 

Cady nods, and hugs him gratefully. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you tonight.”

 

He kisses the top of her head, and she waves from the porch when he drives away.

 

* * *

 

Cady and Aaron talk to a few more people before deciding over sixty accounts of harassment and bullying is hopefully enough. They set up shop in Cady’s living room after school a couple days later, taking advantage of the empty house to turn up the volume without worrying about being heard.

 

They take a break after listening to half, and Cady can’t help but get a little nosy. “So. You and Karen, huh?”

 

“What? Oh.” He blushes, then grins like a dope. Cady squeals and jostles him playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Me and Karen. Honestly, I liked her when I met her. At lunch I used to sit with Regina, but I always liked talking to Karen. She’s smarter than she thinks. And she’s always been the nicest out of all three Plastics. Not fake like Gretchen or using me like Regina. She’s just innocent, and harmless. And we’ve kinda bonded over Regina, oddly enough.”

 

“That’s not odd,” Cady counters, shaking her head. “It’s okay to connect with someone over a person who treated both of you unfairly. You can move forward together since you know how the other feels. And it’s good to have someone who gets it.”

 

He nods, grinning down at his hands. “Yeah. You’re right.” He sighs then, looking at the open computer on the coffee table. “This shit’s hard.”

 

“Yeah. But it’s important to remember that it’s only hard for us to hear it when these people lived it,” Cady reminds him gently.

 

“True. I just can’t believe she’s been getting away with this for so long,” Aaron muses, looking tired. “Trust me, I had no idea about the weird sexual favors. The—the abuse. If I did I would’ve done something about it. But she never told me anything. It’s like she has multiple personalities or something.”

 

“She makes people think she does,” Cady murmurs. “But she’s the same monster every day.”

 

That settles for a minute, then Cady taps her computer’s keypad and plays the rest.

 

On Friday she’s already so anxious during homeroom she feels like she might pass out. Damian notices and asks if she’s okay, and Janis whirls around in her seat. “Yeah,” Cady reassures them, biting her nails. “I’ll tell you about it during break.”

 

And so she shows them the plain disk where copies of the tapes, Gretchen’s screenshots, and Karen’s audios are burned onto it. “We’re taking it to Principal Duvall later,” she informs them nervously. “I’ll get on my knees and beg him to give a shit if I have to, but. I have to have hope he will.”

 

“You’re amazing, Caddy,” Janis says, taking her hand. “Really. This is big. Even if the adults don’t listen, you did. You cared. That means a lot.”

 

Her eyes are sincere, and Cady feels the weight of her words in her gut. Sometimes people only need one person to hear them.

 

When the final bell rings, Damian and Janis walk with Cady to the front office, Karen and Aaron already waiting outside, their hands entwined. Cady gives Karen a bear hug and her heart breaks that Karen is shaking. The five of them enter the office, and the receptionist gives them a confused look.

 

“I’m here to talk to Principal Duvall,” Cady tells her, trying to keep her voice even. “It’s urgent.”

 

“Uh—” The woman glances at all their solemn faces, then gets up to tell him he has visitors. When she comes back, she gives them permission.

 

Janis, Damian, and Karen wait on one of the couches while Aaron and Cady step into Mr. Duvall’s office. Cady vividly remembers the last time she was here, that day when Regina attacked her outside school. He warned Cady to be wary of Janis instead.

 

“Mr. Samuels, Miss Heron,” Mr. Duvall greets in tentative surprise. “What can I do for you?”

 

Cady looks to Aaron for encouragement, and he provides it in a single nod. Cady steps forward and offers the case with the disk inside. “On this disk contains recordings of students who were brave enough to come forward and talk about how Regina George has treated them. There’s also an attachment to screenshots of texts and other audio files that corroborate some of their accounts of harassment and bullying. The texts are between Regina and Gretchen Wieners. Gretchen leaked them last month in an attempt to get revenge on Regina for—something. There’s been a lot of drama recently. But, um, it’s…extremely important that you take the time to listen to these students.”

 

She pauses, wiping her hands on her skirt after he takes the case. “Over sixty people came forward,” she continues. “They are all enormously brave and North Shore owes it to them to hear what they have to say. And if you don’t believe it, we’ll take our evidence to your bosses. We won’t stop until someone cares. Because it’s important to make it safe for people to be here. You’ll see how damaging one person’s actions can be.”

 

She hesitates before adding, “I know she’s a good student and a valuable one to this school. But her worth shouldn’t outweigh theirs. That’s all we have, thank you, sir.” And she turns toward the door because she feels like she’s about to have a panic attack and wants to be near Janis.

 

“Miss Heron,” Mr. Duvall interrupts, as Aaron gently grabs Cady’s arm.

 

“Yes?” she squeaks, aware her statement may be less convincing now that she’s visibly terrified.

 

“How am I supposed to know the rest of the claims are true?” Mr. Duvall wonders. “How do I know this isn’t an elaborate joke?”

 

Cady bristles despite her fear. “You can check our grades, our class attendance. We’re good kids. Good students. We have nothing to gain from pulling a prank like this, not about something so serious. Nobody has lied, either. And if you listen and still think it’s a joke—shame on you. Sir.”

 

Cady leaves then, trembling so hard her legs feel tingly. She pulls Aaron out with her and he puts a hand on her back to support her. Janis jogs over and Cady collapses in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Fuck,” she whispers, as Karen embraces Aaron. “Fuck. I can’t believe I just did that. Oh my God. Oh my _God_.”

 

“Shhh,” Janis soothes, squeezing her. “You did good. It’s gonna be okay.”

 

Cady accepts the comfort Janis gives her, clinging to her like she’s a lifeboat.

 

* * *

 

Five very long days pass with no sign of progress, and then on Cady’s birthday a miracle happens.

 

During gym, an administrator walks in and calls out for Regina, and the entire room falls silent. Regina is sitting on the bleachers with her phone, and looks up, startled, and doesn’t move even when the woman waves her over. Janis is twenty feet away from Cady, but they make eye contact, and their smiles spread at the same time. Everybody watches breathlessly as Regina confusedly steps off the bleachers and goes to see the superintendent.

 

Even from here, Cady can read lips. “The principal wants to speak with you,” the woman says, and guides Regina out of the gymnasium.

 

Coach Carr blows his whistle to regain everyone’s attention, barking at them to continue their assigned exercises, but Janis is sprinting over to Cady to catch her in a hug. It knocks the wind out of Cady but she laughs and hugs her back, ecstatic.

 

It means something. It means Principal Duvall listened. He heard over sixty voices, united against Regina. Cady’s heart is soaring.

 

Karen comes running up then, and they let her join their group hug until Coach Carr yells at them to split up.

 

Cady takes her friends out to eat for her birthday that night, dropped off downtown with Janis and Damian to meet up with the others. She holds Janis’s hand as they explore the city streets, admiring the lights still strung outside storefronts. Cady gets to choose where to eat, and they all rejoice when she picks a pizza place. She didn’t want fancy or expensive. She just wants a fun night out with her friends, where they can be kids and feel like kids, and eat some good pizza.

 

“Wonder why Regina got pulled out of gym,” Taylor notes as they’re waiting, and Cady is confused for a second before realizing Taylor still doesn’t know about the plan. (In all honesty and with all due respect, Cady didn’t tell her because she was afraid she’d spill the beans.)

 

“Oh,” Cady says, sharing a glance with Aaron. “Um. Yeah. About that.”

 

And so she fills Taylor in, and Taylor’s eyes keep getting bigger and bigger until they’re all anyone can see over her hands. “Oh my God,” she eventually breathes. “Are you serious? Oh my God, you could be the one to get her expelled! Holy shit, _really_?”

 

“Yep,” Cady confirms bashfully. “That’s what we’re hoping happens.”

 

Across from her and Janis, Karen puts her head down on Aaron’s shoulder. “I’m dropping out if she doesn’t. She’ll kill me.”

 

Cady genuinely doesn’t doubt that. She bumps Karen’s shoe with hers under the table and says, “Hey. Remember I said we’d protect you?”

 

“Yeah,” Karen mumbles, taking Aaron’s hand. “But Regina’s crazy.”

 

“She’s not stronger than us, though,” Janis says resolutely, sipping her soda. Cady grins.

 

When the pizza comes around, everyone takes a slice and cheers with it instead of their drinks. Regina doesn’t come up again and Cady’s legs end up overlapping on Janis and Damian’s thighs, but neither of them seem to care. They all devour the pizza, and Cady is proud of Karen for digging in without hesitation. She must feel so free. Upset still over her nudes being leaked, but free overall. She gets her liberty back, whether or not Regina faces consequences.

 

Later as they’re walking around some more, Damian hangs back with Cady and puts an arm around her shoulders. “Quick q,” he says, and she looks up at him expectantly. “Were you ever gonna tell me you’re into girls, specifically a certain borderline goth art freak?”

 

Cady snorts. “You’re dumb. Of course I was gonna tell you. Someday.”

 

“I’m joking,” he presses. “Obviously you gotta do it when you feel ready. Which, by the way, would you happen to feel ready now?”

 

Cady laughs and hip checks him. “Yeah, okay. I’m bi. I like Janis.”

 

He theatrically puts a hand over his heart. “Oh my God. Bless. Making America gay again. Doing the Lord’s work.”

 

“I hate you so much,” Cady grumbles, but hugs him around his waist, her heart feeling as full as her stomach.

 

Janis and Damian go back to Cady’s house with her, and her parents are already home, cupcakes waiting on the kitchen table. Cady allows one candle to be lit, and neither Janis or Damian have to ask what her wish is to know. _Hey, universe. Please get Regina kicked out of school. And possibly die. Thanks._

 

“I’m stuffed,” Damian groans where he lays beside Janis on Cady’s bed later.

 

“Me too,” Janis mutters, rubbing her eyes. Cady’s head is cushioned on her arm.

 

“Me three,” Cady chimes in, rolling over to rest her head on Janis’s shoulder with a sigh.

 

“Hap birth, Caddy,” Janis says cheekily, kissing her forehead. “Mwah.”

 

“Happy day of exiting the womb, Caddy dear,” Damian adds jovially, and they fist bump. If Cady’s mother waltzed into her room right now, she’d be taken aback. Cady snickers at the mental image of her mom seeing her practically glued to Janis.

 

The three of them are quiet for a bit, looking at the stars on the ceiling. Then Janis takes a deep breath and says, “I’m gonna talk to my dad soon. About Regina. Some of it, at least, I don’t know how much I’m gonna tell him. But…I wanna see a therapist again. He deserves to know why.”

 

“That’s a good choice, babe,” Cady yawns. “Proud of you.”

 

“Thanks. I’m nervous. I don’t know what to expect.” Janis chews her lip. “I don’t wanna be psychoanalyzed, just listened to. I need advice.”

 

“And you’ll find someone who can do that for you,” Cady assures her. “It’ll be good for you.”

 

Janis sighs, and Damian takes her hand. “Yeah. I hope so.”

 

Since it’s a school night, they can’t stay too late, but Damian goes to distract Cady’s parents to give her and Janis a moment alone. Janis kicks the door shut and tugs Cady closer, face between her palms as she kisses her. Cady pulls at the front of Janis’s shirt and walks backward until they’re on her bed again, giggling as limbs get tangled up and mouths attack each other playfully. Janis tastes like frosting, and Cady shivers.

 

“I don’t wanna go,” Janis moans, softly kissing her cheeks and nose and eyelids. “Can I just move in with you? Please?”

 

“That’d be lovely,” Cady agrees as Janis straddles her waist, sitting up on her knees with their hands entwined. Cady could get used to the view. Janis leans down again to kiss her some more, needy and clingy and affectionate. Cady knots her fingers in Janis’s hair, not wanting her to leave, either.

 

“Janis, your dad’s here,” Damian shouts up the stairs as a warning.

 

“Damn it,” Janis pouts, and Cady laughs sympathetically.

 

They break apart to catch their breath so it won’t be too obvious they were up to something. Janis pulls Cady into a sitting position by her hands and plops one last kiss onto her lips before swiping her phone from the nightstand and promising she’ll text her.

 

Cady and her parents wave her friends goodbye, and once they’re gone Cady is abruptly pulled into a group hug, which is always more awkward when it’s with your parents and you don’t typically have cheesy Hallmark family movie moments. But it’s her birthday and they’re emotional, so she indulges them.

 

“You sure you had a good birthday?” her mother asks, pouting a bit.

 

“Yeah,” Cady tells her, remembering Regina earlier and smiling. “Yeah, it was great. My friends are great.”

 

“We’re really glad you settled in at school,” her father says, kissing the top of her head. “They’re good kids, all of ’em.”

 

“Yeah,” Cady repeats in agreement, her heart aching with love for her friends.

 

That night in the shower, she inspects her healing cuts, surprised that she doesn’t feel the need to reopen them just by looking. She knows she’ll still get urges in the future and she knows they might be hard to resist. But later in bed while texting with Janis she Googles non-harmful alternatives, biting her thumbnail as she reads stuff. She adds several articles to her bookmarks to refer to them if she has to, guilt stirring faintly in her gut.

 

She lays awake for a while after Janis says goodnight, thinking about her day. The lack of presents isn’t bothersome at all (her dad took her up on her suggestion and gave two hundred dollars to their local no-kill shelter), but she still feels like she gained something. Seeing Regina be escorted out of gym with that flabbergasted look on her face is worth all the presents in the world. Knowing Principal Duvall was stirred enough by the tapes to do something about it.

 

Finally, someone’s going to take action. Cady is positive this isn’t the end, that Regina won’t get away with it this time. She’ll be expelled. Hopefully it will open doors for her victims to walk through to find peace and comfort as they heal. Knowing she isn’t stalking the halls anymore will come as such a relief to so many people. There is probably more than just the general sixty who came forward; in a school with almost five hundred people, it’s unlikely they were the only ones. But they were enough—all of them are enough, and they’re worth so much more than what Regina did to them.

 

As for Janis, Cady is confident she’ll find her way. She’ll keep blossoming, prettier and better than Regina ever was. Flowers grow back even when they’re stepped on, and Janis is the most resilient flower Cady’s ever seen. She’s so proud of her, she can feel it pulsating in her veins.

 

She’ll support Janis in whatever path she takes to recovery. It could take years before Janis feels like she has a home in her own skin, a flourishing garden in her beautiful, wonderful mind. But Cady will be there with her, just like Janis will be there for Cady. It’s a journey they wouldn’t want to go on without each other.

 

Seventeen is going to be good to Cady. It’s already looking promising.


	31. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. here we go.

_You could still be,_  
_what you want to be,_  
_What you said you were,_  
_when you met me._

 

_You could still be,_  
_what you want to._  
_What you said you were,_  
_when I met you._  
_when you met me._  
_when I met you._

 

 

 

#  **EPILOGUE**

 

##  _CADY_

 

 

 

A lot happens in the two weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day. It’s everything Cady hoped for and more.

 

Regina doesn’t come back to school after the thirtieth. An announcement is made by Principal Duvall during lunch several days later, explaining she’s been suspended after an anonymous source came forward with evidence she’s been abusing and harming her peers. The school and even police are looking into it.

 

During the remainder part of the day, Cady makes eye contact with most of the people she and Aaron talked to, and they all glow with sheer gratitude and relief. Karen meets up with Cady after the final bell and they stand by the lockers hugging for a long time.

 

Cady is glad nobody except her friends and the people she spoke to know it was her and Aaron who gave Mr. Duvall the tapes. She isn’t sure if she wants everyone to know it was them. It wasn’t about that, anyway—they weren’t doing it for glory or attention. It was a matter of protecting people’s safety and wellbeing.

 

The school already feels like a safer place. Everybody can walk in knowing the poison that is Regina George won’t be there, most likely never again. She’ll go down in North Shore history as the queen bee who stung too many people, so a brave few crushed her entirely.

 

Taylor founds a support group for sexual assault and abuse survivors, either Regina’s victims or others’, and they meet every other day in the gym after school. Janis is too shy to go, but she creates the official art for the group per Taylor’s request.

 

Janis and Cady are taking it slow as planned. They learn to stay comfortable with not spending every second together—they both need space even outside of each other to just have alone time. Basically like before except they miss one another like crazy now that they know what it is they’re feeling.

 

On Valentine’s Day after school, Cady leaves her locker to go find Janis. As she’s approaching the art room, she sees Gretchen Wieners exiting, and Gretchen jumps when she sees Cady. They stare at each other from across the hall, then Gretchen lowers her head and hurries past. Cady races to the art room, half expecting to discover Janis lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Janis yelps in surprise when Cady bursts in.

 

“Jesus! What’s wrong?” she demands, nearly splashing paint on herself.

 

“Nothing, you—I just saw Gretchen,” Cady explains, panting, going over to her. “Was she bugging you?”

 

“No,” Janis says, looking amused. “No, no. She, uh. It’s weird, actually. She apologized.”

 

Cady stares at her incomprehensibly. “Excuse me? She what?”

 

“Yeah.” Janis dips her brush in purple paint and brings it to the canvas. “She said she wanted to talk to me and I said sure and then she said sorry for…basically everything. She wasn’t thinking of me when she leaked all the stuff about Regina and I, and feels bad I got hurt again. She also apologized for calling me slurs and being a homophobe in general. She said she’s gonna work on ‘unlearning her prejudice’ or whatever. She wants to be a better person now, after Regina.”

 

Cady is stunned, but also reluctant to believe it herself. “Huh. Okay. Well. That remains to be seen.”

 

Janis shrugs. “It surprised me, too, but I appreciate it nonetheless.” She sighs, then nods to her painting. “Thoughts?”

 

Cady gasps in delight. It’s a colorful semi-abstract painting of herself, Janis, and Damian huddled together, and her heart leaps with joy as she looks at it. “I love it,” she tells Janis, standing up on her tiptoes to give her a kiss. “It’s beautiful. You’re so talented.”

 

Janis hums. “Thanks. I might put it above my bed, I’m not sure.”

 

Cady admires it as Janis continues to paint. After a minute of amiable silence, she says, “Sooo, um. Was wondering if you wanted to come back to my house so we can curl up on the couch with Wilson and watch corny hetero romcoms just to make fun of them. I’d take you out on a date but I can’t drive.”

 

Janis laughs. “That sounds like a decent compromise, Caddy. I’d love to.”

 

She looks down at her and leans in for another kiss. Cady pulls over a nearby stool and sits while she waits for Janis to be done, and they talk about movies to watch. Cady likes the simplistic domesticity of it, making plans with her girlfriend.

 

If her identity had ever wavered, being with Janis solidifies it.

 

Janis covers her work with a tarp then washes her hands before gathering her backpack and slipping her hand into Cady’s. They walk down the now-empty halls to the front entrance, stepping out into the chilly February afternoon. Janis retrieves her bike but doesn’t get on it, walking it alongside her as they trek back to Cady’s house.

 

They don’t talk about Regina’s absence. There’s no need to taint this day of love by bringing up someone they both hate so much. Regina’s going to get what she deserves because of Cady’s determination, and Cady’s heart swells with humble pride.

 

No more secrets and broken promises. Just them, two girls in love, which is scary and beautiful and nerve wracking and strange—but Cady’s never felt stronger, and she’s sure Janis feels the same.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m not at all kidding when i say this story changed my life. mean girls changed my life. cady and janis changed my life. for years i struggled to commit to a full length fic, never thinking i’d be able to. but then i was inspired and it hit me like a big yellow school bus, and medicine was written in less than a month.
> 
> when i began posting it, i was still new to the fandom, hadn’t written much for it yet. i didn’t think my story would be very popular, but i was excited to share it. i was pleasantly surprised when it started gaining traction as people read it. i was so happy and proud. i had always wanted to write a story that people wanted to read, and it was finally happening.
> 
> the response has been amazing, and i can’t thank you all enough for going on this journey with me. i’ve grown as a writer and person because of this fic and i have written more in the last 4 months than i ever did before. i love writing and i feel like i’m actually happy doing it. writing for the mean girls fandom gives me a sense of belonging, something i haven’t had in a while. and it started with this fic, this little story that i never intended to finish when i started it.
> 
> it’s more than just a story at this point. people have told me how it helps them, how they’ve looked forward to it updating. all of you have a place in my heart and in this process. medicine wouldn’t be complete today if it wasn’t for those of you who have loyally read it from the beginning. i’m so grateful. it means so much to me that you guys have enjoyed it and are here with me now as it ends. endings are always sad, but i hope you’re satisfied with this one. and as silly as it sounds, i’m proud of janis and cady, and especially of anyone who relates to them in some way. you matter.
> 
> that’s the message i wanted to get across with this story: you matter, and the things you’ve been through matter, and it gets better. you can heal like janis will. you can be resilient like cady is. and you can help others who are hurting, and you have the power to make a difference. no change is too small.
> 
> thank you for commenting, leaving kudos, or sharing this story. the support i’ve gotten means the world to me! it’s encouraged me to keep writing. as sad as i am that medicine is over, i look forward to sharing new stories that will help and inspire others. thank you all for following my work, and thank you for loving this story and these girls as much as i did writing it.


End file.
